


Built on Ash and Bone.

by skele_smol



Series: At Every End Is A New Beginning [6]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: AJ's feelings, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bisexual Clementine (Walking Dead), Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Lesbian Character, Closure, Conrad lives, Established Relationship, F/F, Home, James is alive, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Mute Louis, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Post-Game(s), Power Struggle, Survival, Tags Are Hard, Tennessee is dead, Time Skips, Violentine, amputee clementine, continuation of game, emotionally draining, f/f - Freeform, protective Violet, sort of slow burn, trust building, walking dead themed gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-02-09 09:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18635092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skele_smol/pseuds/skele_smol
Summary: A few years have passed since fighting off the raider's from Delta. Things for the teens of Ericson have steadily grown more established as they gradually build contacts and relationships with other pockets of survivor's in the area around them and make the boarding school a functioning home.Their fledgling community is put at risk when faces from the past come seeking aide after their home was destroyed. Clementine's leadership skills are tested and her loyalties torn when faced with decisions that could potentially destroy everything she and her new family have worked so hard to build. Or, perhaps this time, they can find a way to save everybody.





	1. Chapter 1: Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> I am so in love with the Walking Dead games. I adored watching Clementine grow up from the scared little girl, trapped in her tree-house and into the capable, skilled survivor that she became. and like so many fans, I'm just not ready to let her go.
> 
> This story picks up immediately after the game, though before we see Clementine is still alive. All other chapter's take place after a 2-3year skip forward. The first chapter is a sort of recap and explaination for James. In my play-through he held the walkers back in the cave and, since the credits didn't explicitly say he was dead I decided to take liberties and have him survive. 
> 
> I have never written horror or gore and I didn't really want to go too heavy on it, I was aiming for more eerie than scary, so I hope whatever I achieved is entertaining and enjoyable to you all.
> 
> No idea when my next chapter will be posted, but I do intend to update as often as I can. Please do enjoy.

**Built on Ash and Bone**.

**Chapter:1. Prelude**

Tentative fingers of sickly light pressed through haggard and broken trees jutting awkwardly from the crumbling earth. Muted tendrils of yellow coiled through branch and leaf, chasing the dulled dawn chill from the shadows cast by the forest and graced its warmth upon the creatures that inhabited this broken place. Illuminating an old and dilapidated barn, its crumbling structure that offered itself as a home. Embracing the cold bodies that shambled and moaned, that growled and clawed as readily as it did those that ran and spoke. Caressing them all with a glow that masked their rough appearance with a twisted and subtle beauty.

He moved quietly through the deserted forest. Tight, winding pathways filled with wild undergrowth and blackberry vines led him deeper into long abandoned territory. Grayed sunlight danced a dappled pattern over structure and skin when the leaf cover grew dense. Peeking at him, coy and teasing through a woodland shield, light winking in and out when his eyes lifted to watch another roaming walker shambling through the growth. Coupling the shifting light with the threat of the dead drifting between the swell and recede of shadow would have found a lesser survivor panicked and confused, perhaps even stumbling directly into the gaping maw, broken teeth and gnarled fingers of their doom. But James' newer, learned sense of survival proved themselves to be most dependable once more, dominating over the ancestral instincts of fight or flight that his previous life as a Whisperer had rendered useless.

Hugging himself close to one of the treeline, James cast a careful glance up and down the quietened forest path, his shambling pace never ceasing. He dragged his toes even as the broken and rotting body of a walker shuffled across his path with a low, growling moan. Despite his time living among the herds, despite knowing that his living scent was well hidden behind the sagging skin mask and the grim coating of the dead's guts, his heart still tripped a little faster, and his blood still thrummed a little louder in his ears as milky and sightless eyes swung his way. He still knew and understood the risks out here in the open and the sooner he could reach his barn, the safer James would feel.

Passing the creature full of death and rot, James pressed onward. He could see the barn ahead now, could hear a rising chorus that had goose flesh stinging along his spine. A chilling song of moans and growls of a herd excited by the scent of meat and fresh blood.

Here, he did pause for a moment. Pressing his back up against the large oak, he assessed the sight before him. Thankfully the herd was smaller than he had thought, maybe fifteen or so still on their feet clawing into the gaps between the broken boards. He could draw the ones furthest out away with sounds, the ones closest and more invested in actually breaching the barn would have to be killed.

Before yesterday, James had felt no elation in killing walkers. No satisfaction and no relief. Now, after last night, after he had slain so many in that cave holding the herd back in darkness while the three from the Ericson school escaped, he had begun to enjoy it. And the idea of killing more was almost bordering on entertaining to him. He was back to toeing the edge of the dark place he had once been trapped in. That place where life, of any kind, meant little to him anymore. He didn't think, didn't consider, he simply acted.

James reached down to the earth and groped for a few decent sized rocks to pocket. His calculating gaze never leaving the herd surrounding his home even as he tested the heft of the rock, familiarizing himself to the weight nestled in his fingers. With a final careful glance around him, James pulled his arm back and hurled the rock deep into the woods. It crashed noisily through the brush, thundered against bark and rock alike before rolling to a stop. Three of the walkers turned, hooked fingers outstretched and clawing toward the sound, eager growls rolling from hanging jaws. Their guttural voices and movement alerted two more who turned and joined the first three, branching off from the main herd.

James watched and waited for the small pack to pass, holding himself still until the drag and thumps of wasting muscle was no longer audible. Carefully he shifted position, keeping the wide tree between the walkers and himself. He paused for a moment, making sure the creatures were completely focused on either the barn or the woods before he moved closer again. He repeated the process twice more, leaving only three walkers still trying to claw their way into the barn. Their decaying bodies writhing in effort to clamber over each other, jamming themselves up tighter and wedging into a space barely large enough for a single person to squeeze through.

James lowered himself, shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet as he took slow and deliberate steps toward the trapped heap of living corpses. His hands reached for the two large Bowie knives sheathed in the back of his jeans and silently pulled them free. Their long, savage blades glinting a vicious silver beneath the flaking layer of dried blood and gore as he raised the first blade high. Still clawing uselessly through the broken board, the walker's snarl gurgled and died in its ragged throat as the 12inch blade easily bit through soft and yielding flesh, crushing through the decaying skull and ending the first pitiful creatures existence.

Twice more the knife swung down. Twice more, it cleaved a clean path through rancid meat and thick, congealed blood. And twice more, James carefully extracted his blade, his eyes cold as he wiped off the foul smelling rot onto his torn and already stained body warmer. Leaving the broken corpses where they lay James carefully peered through the splintered panel, his gaze traveled and scrutinized the length of the sealed stalls, tracking the trail of fat and bright droplets and taking note of where the piles of the dead lay. The sickening scent of smoke, of burned flesh and blood clawed at his throat and viciously bit at his eyes and nose.

Pulling back, the teen slipped noiselessly around the barn, following the trail of rust coloured smears both trailing in and out of the rundown building. With one final check, he worked his fingers around the edge of the rear exterior door and pried it open just far enough for him to force himself through and slid it shut, blocking out the world full of death once more.

It took a few moments for James' eyes to adjust to the gloom and acrid sting of smoke that still hung in the air. Here he was safer and he was grateful for the respite. It gave him a few moments of peace to collect his warring thoughts, to recall those tense moments in the cave. His world had been shaken to its very foundations, his beliefs and practices that had kept him alive for so long now, questioned and challenged. He could still see her amber eyes in his mind, gleaming in the torch light. A primal warning caught by the flickering flame edging into the bright disks that had held so much hurt. For several long moments both had simply scowled and tensed, bravado and unspoken threats exchanged with just a narrowing of their eyes.

When his focus sharpened and his sight stretched beyond the ability to simply pick out vague shapes, James dragged his mask of leathery flesh from his face. His gaze slid from one side of the main stall, barren and exposed, to the other where bales of hay stood stacked neatly against the walls. There he found himself observing a grisly scene. A pile of walker corpses, slain and shoved gracelessly aside. Disregarded without thought or care. More partially dried blood, red of the living mingling with the almost tar thick ooze of the dead. And a butchered walker, its belly split wide and, tumbling through the mottled gray, its innards lay on the outside.

Finally, his hooded gaze fell upon the severed lower leg in a high-calf combat boot that he recognized.

"Oh my god." He murmured to himself and he moved closer. There was a gash that opened up the side of it from top to ankle. Slicing through the laces and, within the supple leather, an identical wound that slashed through the muscle and meat of the leg. Swallowing hard against the bile that scorched a path up his throat and burned the back of his tongue, James reached for the ruined boot and carefully peeled back the ragged edges. It was morbid, but he had to know. There, through the wet and sinew just above the ankle, he saw the marks of a walker bitten into the familiar dark flesh.

_Clementine._

Panic coiled its cold fingers around his chest, caging his lungs and strangling his heart. Again, he found his thoughts hauling him back to last night, back into that cave. His brow creasing when the words that they had exchanged eddied around his skull. Words fueled with rage, threats dripping with intent. The anger and the fear of his own violent past whip-lashed through him, clouding his thoughts and deafening his ears to reason.

He had been so angry at the way that she had granted a child the right to kill so easily. Angry at how quickly and willing she seemed to throw away the tentative trust that they had built. Angry at her for what he saw as a lack of humanity that was slowly poisoning her and the child in her care.

He slid his dark eyes from the dismembered limb, to the wide stains of red and the deep cuts of a heavy weapon that wounded the ground and felt a stab in his throat. Swallowing hard he shook his head against the new images that his treacherous mind threw up at him, intent on punishing him over and over. Flinching inward, James recalled the way that he had thrown her down. Recalled her sharp gasp of pain as he had slammed his elbow into her jaw to keep her down when she had tried to pull herself to her feet. He remembered the way that her chin snapped up as his fingers wrapped around AJ's wrist and he pulled the boy away from her. Defiance and anger stormed in her eyes, a volatile tempest of emotions, as she held his furious gaze for a moment or two before she struggled to her feet.

James shook his head again, sharper this time. A feeble attempt to break free of the repeating memories and to jostle himself back to the here and now. Inhaling deeply, he rolled the acrid scent around his tongue, grounding himself with its vile taste. He was in the barn. He was safe. Again James' gaze fell to the severed limb and blood for a moment before he pressed his palms to his eyes. Furious at himself for his lack of comprehension, a wave of guilt had his knees folding beneath him. Not once had Clementine raised her fists to strike him in retaliation, not once had she reached for a weapon to turn on him. Instead she simply planted herself between James and AJ, a mother's fury bristling through her small frame as she delivered her only threat of _'clawing his fucking eyes out'_.

James pushed his face through his palms and pressed his eyes to his knees, one arm wrapping around his head the other clasping his legs as he drew them to his chest. “I shouldn't have left them.” He whispered into his knees. “I let this happen.”

Curled in upon himself, the teenager reluctantly allowed the grief to embrace him properly, his shoulders shaking with each shuddering breath.

There he stayed, wrapped around himself like a child for hours. His thickly lashed lids hung heavy and low as he watched the shadows reach shift and shorten with the passage of time. Trapped in a bitter cycle and unable to clear that wounded look in Clementine's eyes from his thoughts. The stark look of hurt and utter betrayal as he had cruelly pointed out every mistake she was making. Scorning her with the opinion that her best wasn't good enough. How she was failing in teaching AJ how to live in a world where actions and consequence no longer held meaning outside of trying to live just one more day.

Turning his face so that his cheek rested on his knee, James stared at the gutted walker without really seeing past the twisted bestial snarl locked on torn lips, loops of intestine and brain matter that spilled on the ground around it. A breeze tickled a path over his skin from the splintered outer walls as his eyelids drooped further, the alluring tug of slumber returning. Just as his consciousness teetered upon the edge of awareness and the dark void of sleep, a realization jolted him in to full alertness. His brows knitted downwards into a puzzled frown as he lifted himself to his knees. There, dragging through the sticky mess that pooled around the dead creature, he noticed a wheel tread that smeared a path to the wider side door.

Shoving aside his fatigue, he hauled himself to his feet and grabbed up the skin mask. Tugging the macabre thing into place over his own face as he loped toward the panel, noting the thick cord of rope that he used to secure this particular door was missing. Cut and taken. Fingers curled around the edge of the wide door, James inched it open just wide enough for him to squeeze his lean built back outside. No sounds reached him as he padded through the eerie stillness of the early morning and, with one careful glance around, James slunk quietly back into the forest. His silent feet carrying him in the direction of the school.

* * *

 

It felt wrong for him to be standing here, shrouded by the forest, feeling more safe with the horrors hidden in the dense foliage than those who lived behind such defenses. It felt wrong, the lifelessness that wasn't spoken of and the hopelessness that had settled in the hearts of the still able bodied kids who scurried about the internal ruin that lay behind gates of iron and gray stone. Wordless as they busied themselves with clearing away debris from the courtyard that had become a battle field. It felt wrong that, even with the distance and his cover of branch and leaf between them, he could still clearly read the raw fear in their eyes as they ducked silently past friends and comrades, removing the residual evidence of the battle past.

The bleakness that clung to every last surface, every still living being, told all the world of its injuries and indignities suffered. In its silence and sealed gates the school, the former fortress, spoke of an outrage and betrayal far more clearly than crumbling walls or battle cries ever could.

James continued his watching of the small group of teenagers working outside the building. Observing as a crumbling walls were deftly stripped of its most damaged parts and a patchwork of new materials, whole rocks and metal scraps, were slid into the holes, in hopes of returning to the structure some of its strength. Lashes slid over his steely gaze and he drew a cleansing breath, there were many more broken structures to rebuild within these walls, structures that did not consist of simply replacing brick. The individuals that existed beyond the gates were far more fragile. Their confidence in themselves had been shaken and they were scared. That in itself would take plenty of patience to repair even the smallest fissure, but to completely reconstruct an almost demolition for already damaged youths, that would require scores of time.

And time was a luxury not within their grasp.

“James?”

James' eyes flicked to the gate at the call and finding the red headed girl, Ruby if he remembered correctly, standing there. Her eyes wide in surprise but a genuine smile creasing her round face.

“I thought that was you out there.” her drawling voice softened with concern. “When the boat started sinkin' and the walkers started hustlin' up on us, I feared the worst when I saw y'all were gone. But here ya are, lookin' none the worse for it.”

A slightly cool breeze kicked up. Sweat damp skin prickled on the back of his neck, causing James to shiver. A shiver against the chill of it he told himself, and not the foreign warming feeling that Ruby's obvious concern for him stirred up. His hands came up, fingers curling around the mask to remove it. Taking advantage of the few long moments to steel himself against the questions that fought to tumble out of his mouth. “So, everyone got out?”

Sadness touched the warmth in Ruby's eyes. “More than we expected, but less than we'd hoped for,” her chin lowered, lips trembling with the threat of the sobs raking at her throat making her voice crack as she whispered. “We lost Tennessee.”

James felt that frustrating tightness return to his throat. The high emotion from the rescue, the sense of unease for where he was standing now after the long night of violence. It all seemed so determined to strangle him. Swallowing heavily he tried to gulp the sensation away, hoping to steady his voice as he murmured. “I'm sorry.”

Ruby nodded wordlessly. She swiped her arm along her nose before wiping the wet against the leg of her jeans. She drew a shaky breath, held it, before blowing it out in a low and long exhale.

James shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the silence between them felt uneasy and awkward, but he kept his gaze lowered to allow the girl a respectful moment of privacy to reign in her emotions for a loss that was still too new and too raw.

“Ruby?” A smokey voice, softened by distance, drifted across the courtyard. “Shit!”

The red head turned slightly at the sound of her name, the shift of her body revealing another girl, a girl James definitely recognized, struggling to drag a charred and vaguely humanoid shape toward a cart already laden with two other corpses.

Violet.

Choppy blonde hair fell across her forehead and into her eyes as Violet thumped heavily on her ass, the blackened limb that she had been using to pull the body separating from the main bulk with a sickening crunch. Scraping the unruly strands back and away from her face. “Oh, God damn it!” Violet grumbled quietly to herself before raising her voice in an attempt to catch the other girls attention.“Ruby! Kinda gonna need a hand with this one! You wouldn't think a scrawny lump of barbecued walker would be this fucking heavy.”

Hauling herself back onto her feet, Violet roughly brushed the earth from the seat of her pants."Hey, Ruby! Did you-”

Turning on her heel, she felt her spine instinctively snap upright, pulling her from her usual slouch, her shoulders held stiff and her gut clenching painfully as her eyes slid from Ruby to the figure beyond the gates. She felt the first spark of fury ignite in her chest and moved her feet toward the pair, her brows drawing down into a scowl as her jaw worked behind clenching teeth.

Hearing the blonde's approach, Ruby turned fully to meet her, eyes bright with unshed tears and yet she still attempted a cheerful smile. "Vi, James is OK.” She chirped, waving her hand toward the former Whisperer. “He managed to get- hey! Violet? VI?!"

Ignoring Ruby's cries, Violet dug her fingers painfully into to her shoulder and dragged the younger girl back away from the gate, almost flinging her out of her way. The clear green of her eyes, eyes that usually shuttered her emotions away from the world, boiled with unbridled rage. In a single fluid motion her hand was around one of the twisted iron rungs of the gate, knuckles bleached white under her grip, as she wrenched the barrier between her and the male teen aside. James felt the threat in her posture, his spine snapping taut, feet stumbling as he took a hurried step backwards, desperately trying to put some distance between himself and the coltish girl who was suddenly in his face, seething in outrage and directing her fury on him.

“Where the fuck were you, James?” Violet demanded, her eyes narrowing. Her palms stung as she slammed them into his shoulders with a force that sent him stumbling backwards. “Where were you when we fucking needed you? What the hell happened to the god damned plan!?”

Rolling the ache of Violet's strike from his shoulders, James took a further step backwards. Not retreating but more to widen his stance, planting himself more firmly against another possible attack.. “Things... got complicated. Lilly's people, they found me. Dragged me onto the-”

But Violet plowed on, ignoring James' attempts to protest. “No shit things got complicated. That herd almost killed us all!”

“Vi, now you know that ain't fair.” Ruby said quietly from behind the blonde, her southern drawl soothing, softening her words. “The noise drew in more walkers, y'all knew that was gonna happen.”

Violet swung her head to fix Ruby with a pitiful look, her eyes turbulent with the need to place blame conflicting with her own guilt. Pleading with Ruby to not challenge her outburst “That's why _he_ was supposed to be there!” head snapping back to James, her expression hardening once more and words dripping venom. “You were supposed to be there! But you left us! You abandoned us, abandoned _her!_ ”

The blood suddenly chilled in James' veins and then roared loudly in his ears, hot and full of temper. Drawing himself to is full height he towered over Violet and matched her fury with his own as he snarled at her. “I killed so many! I had to kill so many of them, the walkers. Their bodies piling up behind me-”

“Well, hip hip-fucking-hooray!” Violet spat back. “Maybe now you see that they aren't people or pets. They're mindless fucking monsters and that's all.”

“I was fighting for my life!”

“Yeah? Well, Clementine is up there right now, still fighting for hers.” Violet jabbed a finger up toward the admin building that lay beyond the courtyard and stone steps before she lowered it again, her hands curling into fists. Her eyes closed and she swallowed back the lump forming in her throat at the memory of carrying the broken body back to the school. Remembering how her limbs had dangled and flopped like a rag doll. How cold and clammy her skin had felt as it bumped against her own warm flesh. Her lips skimmed back from her teeth and her small frame radiated pure fury. “She is laying up there with half her fucking leg gone and I don't have a fucking clue if she's gonna wake up or if I'm gonna have to-” her voice cracked with strained emotion, her lashes parting to reveal a wetness dancing within. Dragging ragged, soothing breaths to quell the fire that raged in her chest. “to put a fucking bullet in her brain. So forgive me for not giving two shits about you and your god damned bleeding heart for putting down a couple dozen walkers!”

James' temper softened when Violet's voice trailed off as she swallowed awkwardly and shook her head. He found his thoughts rushing to memories of Charlie. Of how he had left him behind. Of the hurt he had felt, that he still felt, knowing that he was never coming back. “This was not my war.” he said quietly. “I didn't ask to be part of it.”

“Neither did we!” Violet said sharply. “Fuck, James, do you really think we wanted any of the shit that's happened to happen? Being left to die. The dead eating us. Being stolen, tortured and manipulated by twisted fucking adults into mindless drones and sent to fight and die for them!” she paused, eyes closing as she drew a shaky breath.

“Vi?” Ruby tried softly, her own voice trembling as she reached a comforting hand for Violet's shoulder.

But Violet waved her off and fixed James with a look that to anyone else, would seem guarded. But James could easily see the fear and vulnerability lurking in the depths. The dark, yawning chasm that threatened to swallow her if she lost the girl she loved. He had seen it reflected in his own face so long ago, the day he'd lost Charlie. “All we want is to survive in this fucked up world. For as long as we can. And we need people to do that. To show us how. Strong people, like you and Cle- shit!” Her voice cracked again, words choking off as the first tear rolled down her cheek. “Please, I can't keep losing people.”

She looked so tiny, her body curling in around herself, drowning in her layers of vests and shirts. Bright eyes searching for his help, pleading with him. Throwing him right back to last night as Clementine's own words finally, _finally_ , reached him.

“I... maybe.”

He glanced over Violet's shoulder at the crumbing walls of the boarding school, at the mismatched rubble, fitting into the wounds left behind. A new home, a new world that might not work the same as the old one lost to violence and fear, death and misery, but a new one built upon the mistakes and ruins of desperation. It may not have been much but, in that moment and to James, it finally felt like a right step forward.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cleeem-” The boy whined again. Dragging out her name until he saw her pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh. “You promised we'd do it today! And I have watch duty soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time-skip activated. 
> 
> Set a few years into the future from the last chapter.  
> Chapter one was more a summing up of the games conclusion and acted as a prelude to the main story. So, after agonizing over this chapter for weeks, losing one of the almost complete versions due to a crash, it's finally here.
> 
> I hope you enjoy

**Chapter:2.**

“C'mon Clem,” AJ whined, his voice rising in both pitch and childish urgency. “It's time.”

“Just gimme a sec, OK kiddo?”

A notebook filled with Clementine's spidery handwriting lay open on the overly ornate desk. Grand and grotesque, much like the rest of the furniture that still dominated the old Headmaster's office. In the corner, upon an old mattress sprawled Rosie, upside down and deeply asleep. The pit-bull's flopping jowls quivered with every rattling snore and her massive front paws, folded neatly to her wide chest, twitched as she dreamed. Across the room, the pencil in Clementine's right hand scrawled over the page, documenting the school's inventory and available trade fodder. Dog-eared text books filled with neatly printed words and other notebooks, displaying more legible handwriting than her own, covered even more of the desk. And, pushed to one side lay maps adorned with circled names and distances, other small settlements and pockets of survivors like themselves.

The book she was currently pouring over, full of farming advice. She rested her chin in a cupped palm as she absorbed the words, knowledge gifted to them by one settlement that had been well established as a farming community but had not been well versed in melee combat. Running short on bullets was a very common occurrence nowadays, and struggling to clear a small herd of walkers intent on breaching their walls had them appealing to the boarding school for assistance. Eternally grateful for the help in securing their home again, they had offered up their farming advice in payment for Clementine's peoples efforts. Her unusual, almost golden eyes roved over the the words, absorbing the guidance in the words, telling her how to go about managing the small infestation of insect and rodent pests in their vegetable gardens. A frustrating occurrence that was currently threatening some of their crop for this season. She was relieved to learn that, with supervision, their small number of wild caught turkeys and traded chickens would very quickly decimate the outbreak.

She had also very quickly learned that simply trading food and resources was a flawed and short-sighted system. Sure, ever since the canned foods from the old world had all but run out and people had been at various stages of starvation, trading for food was at the forefront of most peoples thoughts. But the trading for food would only help in a pinch, a short term solution for a long term problem. Consistently foraging berries, roots and wild game for trade fodder was not a sustainable option. Too susceptible to fluctuating availability. An off growing season, an influx of walkers in their hunting grounds, anything could send them scrambling to feed their own hungry people without also then having to worry about fulfilling trade obligations or defending their hunting territory from poaching. But the trading of knowledge and skills, as well as seed vegetables and livestock, gave each other the ability to be self reliant and create something sustainable.

“Cleeem-” The boy whined again. Dragging out her name until he saw her pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh. “You promised we'd do it today! And I have watch duty soon.”

Clementine's eyes, warm and soft with affection for the boy, lifted away from the passage she was currently reading to watch the his pouting lip. Her own quirked up into a soft curve as she gave him an exaggerated sigh and stretched her arms over her head, spine popping loudly, finally released from its hunched position. When she swiveled in her seat and began to reach for her crutches AJ jumped, like a too tightly coiled spring, to grab them first. She smiled softly as he turned to hand them over. It was almost as though her movements were his catalyst, propelling him in to action if it hurried them along. By the time Clementine had them tucked under her arms and had hauled herself upright, AJ was already out the door and running.

Shaking her head and swinging herself forward on her crutches, she followed him from the room, listening to his footfalls thundering through the halls. Had she been so full of energy at his age? She couldn't remember anymore. It all seemed so very long ago now. If she had, those days were so faded in her memories, so lost behind painful flashes of fear and darkness, of death and blood that she would not have argued against them simply being wishful thinking and hopeful dreams. Her pace steady but far slower, her progress marked with the clattering of poles and thump of a boot.

A fairy-tale.

Already Clementine felt the sting exhaustion behind her eyelids, the dull ache of fatigue settling in her limbs and that frustratingly familiar knot of self-pity tightening in her chest. At eighteen years old -or was she nineteen now? dates and birthdays had become a long forgotten concept- she should be enjoying the perks of her youth. Instead she felt old and worn out, trapped inside this broken and tired husk.

By the time she caught up with AJ he already had his back pressed up against the doorjamb of an open dorm, a scrap of paper pinned to the wooden door proudly proclaiming it to be “ **AJ's Room** ” in messy crayon. His excitement had him bouncing on his toes and grinning wide, the tip of his tongue poked and wriggled through a new gap in his teeth, baby teeth giving way for their new stronger replacements. Beside his cheek and carved into the frame of the room were notches with his name scrawled in the same crayon as on the paper.

“OK AJ, heels down and look straight at me.” Carefully Clementine balanced herself on her one whole leg, tucking both the wooden poles under her left arm and leaned in, plucking the small pocket knife that the boy offered to neatly score a new line into the door frame marking his new height. It was something so stupidly unnecessary and childish. His growth was glaringly obvious whenever he stood beside her, the top of his head now reaching her chin instead of her chest. But somehow it was also so incredibly comforting. So normal.

Content with her handiwork, Clementine moved herself backwards and smiled. “You're getting so tall, Goofball. Take a look.”

Turning around, the boy inspected the new groove, tracing over it with his index finger before dropping it to the line below, measuring the space between them with a second and third finger joining the first. “I grew a lot this time, huh?”

“Sure did. Pretty soon you'll be taller than me.”

“And Violet?”

Clementine smiled softly at the mention of the blonde girls name. “Yes, even taller than Violet too. You're gonna be so tall kiddo, and strong.”

“Just like what you made me promise back in James' barn. It's my job to.” AJ said quietly, his voice somber and thoughtful for a moment before he whirled around, catching her off-guard as he crushed his face into Clementine's throat, arms curling around her waist in a tight hug. “Right, Clem?”

Clementine swallowed thickly against the sudden knot of emotion in her throat, blinking away the burning threat of tears and praying that her voice wouldn't tremble as she spoke. “That's right.”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Violet sat alone, perched upon a high, thick and gnarled branch of the old oak tree that grew inside the boundary wall surrounding the school and overlooking the forest beyond. One knee drawn up to her chest to support her folded arms and her chin resting on top of them while her other leg dangled, a counterweight to help balance her.

She had always loved this time of year the most. The way the warming colours that painted the sky swirled with cloud-strokes. The way the leaves would catch in the last light and ignited into clusters of flame, stealing the warmth from the fast-fading sunlight. Angular face tilting high and lashes sliding low, Violet sighed quietly. Breath skimming over her lips to dance away on the late autumn breezes that were somehow both warming and cooling at once, teasing gentle fingers through the wisps of ashen blonde that fell across her eyes.  

She had been busy all morning, everyone had. Their home had slowly transformed over the last two years. Gradually morphing from just a refuge for terrified children -trembling behind the imposing high walls- and into a functioning, self reliant community. Maintaining it as a home was an on-going chore, constantly checking and repairing the boundary walls, expanding their farming land. Re-purposing the old and broken furniture that had blocked off parts of the admin building into building materials for their defenses and housing materials for their small number of livestock; the horses and chickens, turkey's and even a few semi-wild pigs that had wandered through the forest looking for safety. Their greenhouse and adjoining science lab had become a very productive vegetable garden, capable of growing more potatoes, carrots and lentils and any other produce that they could get their hands on than even AJ and Willy; with all their random growth spurts, could eat. They had even unearthed two still functioning well-houses, hidden under almost a decade of nettles and climbing ivy and fed by an underground stream, the school's location too far out in the forest for it to be on municipal water systems even before civilization went to shit. It had been something none of the original group had even considered looking for until they had found them, and now they didn't have to haul barrels to and from the river anymore, regaining half their work days for themselves.

If she closed her eyes, Violet could almost forget that the terrifying world beyond their gates even existed. Almost forget all of the blood and death that stalked them with grappling fingers and rotting teeth. Almost forget that the still living were often more of a threat to them than the eternally hungry dead were. The dead were predictable, the living were not.

Violet sighed again, this time softly, pensively. A tiny relaxed smile toyed on her lips. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine that they were the only ones left in the world. Behind her she could hear the murmur of voices and the musical lilt of laughter drifting over the courtyard. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine Ruby with Aasim, watering down the horses and sharing stolen moments of affection. Or Willy sitting and sharpening his small knife, Mitch's old whittling knife, as he helped Omar prepare meat and vegetables for the evening meal.

Her friends. Her people. Her lover and her boy. They were all she needed and they were here, safe. The rag-tag and broken family that she found for herself as the world fell to shit around them. A family that would always fight with her, for her. For the first time in all of her memories, Violet felt like she actually belonged somewhere.

She yawned and leaned her back to the smooth bark, folding her arms behind her head and allowing her body to sag lower as light lashes slid down. Her breathing evened out gradually and she relaxed into a light doze. A doze that was abruptly interrupted less than a few minutes into it, by a familiar voice that floated up from beneath her branch.

“Hey, Violet!” AJ lifted his face toward the lounging blonde.

Parting a single eye and tilting her chin down to the boy below, Violet took in the softness in his dark, soulful eyes and the look of ease on his round face. He smiled a lot more these days. It made him look so young, so painfully normal. It made it so easy to forget the smart and hardened individual that he was. A child born to the end of the world. A child born into survival and raised by a child forced to survive.

“Hey, little man.”

“What are you doing all the way over there? That's not where we do watch from.” AJ chuckled, his fingers curling around the rungs of the ladder that would bring him to her height.

For several long moments Violet simply watched the little boy climb, taking careful notice of each confident movement he made. Once the boys feet had reached the solid platform and he had clambered onto the boundary wall, Violet's watchful gaze softened and her cheeks puffed in a heavy breath, a breath that she didn't realize she was holding. “I know. I just wanted to think and needed the quiet.”

The boy carefully picked his way along the wall until he was standing directly in front of the blonde, his eyes thoughtful as they dropped to where the long oak limb that Violet had chosen to sit on stretched across the wall and over the other side. Lifting one foot he took a careful step, testing the strength of the bough before he deemed it strong enough to walk on. “So, what do you think about when you're up here?”

“Lot's of things,” Violet leaned herself forward, her head tilted as she subtly watched him, peering through pale lashes and flaxen locks that tumbled messily into her eyes as AJ slid his foot further out along her perch. “sometimes happy things, like how this place has changed for the better. How we're stronger now. And, sometimes I think of sad things, like...” A flash of a memory that dried up the words in her throat. Her vision blurring over and failing to focus on anything in front of her anymore, yet her pupils dilated and flickered, following the images that her mind insisted on showing her. A sweet smile and trusting eyes. Hands that tugged at fingers nervously, broken rubber boots that were more tape than anything else and wrinkly, scarred flesh that reached from temple to jaw.

“Like, Tenn?” The boy's voice was closer now, but his words were soft, almost wise and painfully understanding.

Violet swallowed hard but couldn't speak, instead she forced a weak smile. AJ was closer now, his arms spread wide to aide his balance through his cautious steps. When he was within her reach, the blonde shifted her weight, allowing her other leg to sip and wrap around the thick branch, leaning forward and held her hand out to him. Long and slender fingers enveloped his smaller darker ones as she helped him turn around and sit. Her fingers slipped along his arms and around his elbows, pulling him closer until his back was pressed up against her chest and his legs hung either side of the branch like her own. The denim of his too big jeans rasping softly as he kicked his feet back and forth gently against the rough bark. Satisfied that AJ was safe and unlikely to slip and fall, Violet leaned herself back against the wide trunk again, eyes unfocused and hazy as she watched the clouds drift across the sky above them.

“I miss him too.”

Her focus snapped down and she tensed when his small hands closed themselves over hers, his thumbs stroking comforting circles against her skin. She couldn't help it, his admission was so soft, so terribly small and vulnerable. It was so unlike how she had ever heard AJ sound in the few years that she had known him. And then there was his touch, so gentle, comforting. It just felt so incredibly surreal. AJ always had such an air of confidence about him. There was no denying his bravery but she was certain a lot of his confidence was simply childish bluster, hiding his vulnerabilities and weaknesses.

Just like Clementine.

Build up your walls, keep others at arms length. Buff your armor so no one can see the dents and cracks and maybe you'll survive. She could recall hearing something somewhere, a long time ago now, something about baffling others with enough bullshit and people will believe whatever crap you fed them.

Just like her.

“He was my friend too, but I didn't save him. I wanted to. I really did. But he wasn't listening. Not to you or me or to Clem. We were his friends but he was listening to Minnie and her lies. Like he did with Lilly, and then he got Mitch killed. I didn't want that to happen again. I didn't want that to happen to you.” It took Violet a minute to realize AJ was talking again. His voice came a little stronger this time but it was stained with sorrow. “I'm really sorry that I made you so sad. I don't ever want to make you feel that mad or sad again. I want to make you happy and keep you safe, like you did when you wanted to keep us even though everyone else didn't. I want you to trust me like Clem does, and like we trust you. I never wanted you to hate me.”

Violet felt her eyes burn as she hastily blinked back the tears that gathered in the corners, the child in her arms curling smaller, shrinking deeper against her, and his voice trembled with more guilt and sorrow that she had ever imagined he bore.

“I promise, I never hated you, AJ. Never.” Wrapping her arms around him, shielding him, in the same way she had felt the need to protect Tenn after the twins had gone. She allowed herself to lean her cheek closer to his until she was nuzzling against his coarse curls, her chest aching for the boy in her arms and her mind trying desperately to convince herself that it was more to comfort him than it was herself.

“But, you're scared of me?”

“No.” She tilted her cheek further into the mess of hair as she felt her heart slam violently down into her belly, felt her spirit crumble at the hurt in his voice. “I'm scared for you AJ, not of you.”

AJ lifted his head and tilted his chin over his shoulder, his confusion startlingly clear in his dark eyes.

“Sometimes I forget just how different things are now to what they once were. Sometimes I just can't wrap my head around what kind of world you were born into. The things that Clem had to learn so, so fast just to keep herself alive, and that's what scares me.” Violet paused and swallowed thickly, admitting to the boy her fears and her own shortcomings cutting far more than she expected. “I've spent this whole damned apocalypse here with my head up my ass, in relative safety behind walls, and I still barely survived this long. When Lilly and her dick patrol invaded and took people, that was the first time I saw what you had already seen. For the first time I started to understand, really understand, and I got scared knowing that a five year old was so much more capable to survive in this shitty world than I am. And you will, AJ, you'll be the one who'll not just survive it, but you'll beat it. And no matter what, I do trust you.”

With no more words to say on the subject, the pair sat in a welcomed silence. AJ seemingly lost in thought as he stared ahead into the forest, digesting the conversation they had shared while Violet was simply content to be holding the boy. A few minutes passed before AJ gently tapped the back of Violet's hand that was still holding him around his belly, cradling him against her.

“I grew again. A lot this time. Clem says that pretty soon, I'm gonna be even taller than both you and her.”

“That's awesome, kiddo. Both me and Clem are short asses. And trust me, you don't wanna be a short ass in this world.”

“Why not?”

Barely keeping the chuckle from her voice, despite the seriousness in the boys own, Violet leaned back, her shoulders shrugging. “Lots of things are easier when you're taller. Like, I wouldn't be able to run as fast as you will. People don't listen or take you as seriously as someone who is taller... You'll be able to reach shit on a high shelf without having to climb on a damned chair.”

“But you're smart. And strong. And really, really good at keeping us safe.”AJ's voice held a note of affection and quiet admiration as he twisted in his seat to meet her eye properly for the first time since he'd sat down. “And you're really brave. You made James listen to you, even when he was so mad at us, and now he makes the monsters protect us. You make the other places that still have people listen to you too.”

Violet cast her gaze upwards, catching the dark smudge of a crow wheeling through the sky, her lips pursing thoughtfully as she considered the boy's words. Then her mouth curled into a lop-sided smirk. “That's because we short asses have short tempers. You remember how Ruby scared you after you bit her?” The smirk broadened when AJ's head nodded at the memory. “Well I can be pretty scary too. I put James on his ass when he showed up at the gates. God, I was so mad at him. I'm pretty sure Ruby thought I was gonna kill him.”

“I think they called it the Napoleon complex.” AJ's face immediately lit up in delight at the sound of Clementine's voice interjecting their conversation from below. His eyes darted away from the blondes to peer down, his head craning and elbow's digging painfully into the flesh of Violet's inner thigh as he leaned himself dangerously far out over the branch to watch Clementine's slow plod across the courtyard. “It's a nice way of saying that Vi's got a mean temper.”

Violet took a sharp intake of breath -an equal mix of surprise and pain- when AJ's pointy elbow jabbed her. One hand shooting out to grab a handful of the boys shirt, hauling him back onto his rear with a thump so that he didn't topple them from the tree with his clumsily enthusiastic movements. Her other hand soothing the sting from the tender spot left behind by AJ as she turned her own head to acknowledge Clementine's arrival with a soft smile and an exaggerated eye-roll in response to the _'Vi's got a mean temper'_ comment _._

“I thought you were going on watch, Goofball?” A tidy and full eyebrow lifted as Clementine clicked her tongue in mock scolding. “It's not like you to shirk your turn to play lookout.”

AJ tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder at Violet, warmth dancing in his eyes. “I'm not. But I had some things I wanted to think about first, and Violet said this was a good place to do that.” His voice slipped into a conspiratorial tone. “She was right.”

“I see.” Clementine turns her cocked brow to Violet and, despite the teasing tone to her voice, there's a strange edge to it that snags Violet's attention.

Her eyes despite the flashes of amber, are dark and guarded; marred with exhaustion and swirls of something else that muddies the exotic colour and  Violet feels her heart slam all the way into her boots.

Ever since Clementine survived the walker bite and AJ's clumsy amputation in James' barn, Violet had grown frustratingly observant and protective. She had always been a cautious and watchful individual, socially awkward and a childhood spent avoiding a drunken father made reading people's expressions and body language a necessary survival skill. Green eyes discretely roved Clementine's face, finding and mentally tallying up her tells with ease, even though Clementine thinks she has them so carefully locked down.

There's a tightness in her jaw that she thinks she hides so well behind her laughter, a slight flare of nostrils as Clementine breathes. And the way that she is hanging a little more weightily on her crutches is so far from the intended disguise of a casual lean that it's almost laughable... Almost. Today is clearly one of Clementine's bad days. But the stubborn ass is determined to keep pushing herself; even though she's hurting, until someone steps in and calls her out on her bullshit.

And it sucks for Clementine because Violet is more than happy to call out all of her bullshit.

“Where are you headed?”

“The greenhouse. Hopefully to can save as much of our harvest as possible. I want to let the chickens loose in the vegetable plots, see what they can do to deal with the bug and mouse infestation... did you know that the chickens will eat the mice too?”

“Really? That's kinda terrifying actually. Just give me a minute and I'll come join you.” Shifting her legs under her hips, Violet rolls herself to her feet with a deceptive level of ease. One arm reaching upwards until her palm slides to the branch that looms overhead, careful to dig her bitten down nails into the bark for support before she offers her hand to AJ. “OK kiddo, I think it's time we did some work today.”

She can feel Clementine's eyes boring into the back of her head as she grips the boy's upper arm and helps him to his feet. The weight of her pointed look, almost a glare, and the tone that she speaks in is hard and accusatory, though the words lack any true bite. “I can manage. I don't need a minder.”

Violet refuses to look down until AJ is safely back to the solid stonework of the perimeter wall. As soon as his feet touch brick, AJ scampers toward the wooden platform. “I never said that you did. I still got shit to do if you don't mind the company. And besides,” Violet crouches down, hands planting firmly, hips twisting and knees bending to absorb the shock of each impact as she nimbly drops herself down from one branch to another. Within minutes she has her feet back on the ground and is scuffing her palms against the seat of her pants, knocking bits of bark from her ass before she lifts her eyes and gives Clementine a wolfish smirk. “I wanna see how my future nuggets are coming along.”

A soft _tch_ and a scarcely there smile toys on Clementine's lips. “You've still got a while to wait before we even consider butchering a chicken. Especially while they're still laying.”

Violet's smirk morphs into a grin, a lop-sided curve that showed teeth on one side. “That's cool with me. More chickens, fatter chickens, it all leads to more nuggets for Vi.”

Clementine's exhaustion slips from her eyes briefly and mirth tweaking her lips into a good humored grin that she turns to the boy staring down at them from the wall.“And this is why Violet's not allowed to work in the chicken coop unsupervised, AJ. Leave it up to her and we'll have eaten all of them within a week.”

“Damn right. I'll take the meat over eggs every time.” Violet leaned in closer, her slightly sharp nose brushing against Clementine's cheek as she moves to catch her lips in a tender touch.

“Ew. You guys are so gross.” AJ grumbled down from above them, his declaration was swiftly followed with exaggerated gagging sounds.

Violet's graceless snort broke their lips apart, though she touched her forehead to Clementine's for a moment before she straightened her back. Lacing her fingers behind her head, she swung her gaze up toward AJ, his face home to the widest, cheesiest grin she had ever seen on anyone.

“Yeah? Well, maybe you better look in another direction then. Preferable that one.” She teased and pointed off into the forest. “If the walkers are on this side of the wall then you aren't doing your job properly.”

The boy rolls his eyes and pokes his tongue out. Feet planting wide and knees bending as though the stance would help extend his tongue further at the blonde. Not one to back down from a challenge, Violet returned the gesture; her hands lifting to her ears, fingers wiggling just for good measure.

She knew she looked absolutely ridiculous but she didn't care. AJ's wild whoops of laughter drifting down from the wall and the quiet chuckles that stirred the thin ashen wisps behind her ear made all the teasing and ridicule that she would later endure worth it. After a moment, she pulled herself upright, spun on her heel and met Clementine's eyes, relieved to see the shadows lurking in her eyes had softened.

“So, to the chickens?”

Their walk across the courtyard was pleasant, unhurried. Violet easily matched her pace to Clementine's, enjoying the comfortable silence and the sense of calm that embraced the pair after her moment of silliness. She breathed deeply, luxuriating in the pleasant breeze that washed over her, teasing her nose with the scent of Omar's cooking. Her stomach fluttered with the first suggestions of hunger pangs as the thoughts of slow cooked stew -or was it a pot roast? not that it really mattered, they were both essentially the same dish anyway- filled her mind. But mostly, she was simply enjoying spending her time walking with Clementine.

“So, do you actually still have things to do or is this some kind of conspiracy AJ cooked up and you just got stuck babysitting the cripple?”

Violet's green eyes slid to the side, one thin brow quirking as she watched sharp teeth worrying the full lower lip. “Oh, yeah, I still got plenty of shit to do.” She lifted her hand and started ticking off the last of her duties on her fingers. “Let's see, I still have to take clean bathing water up to the room. I still need to put together our food payment for James. See if I can catch the sneaky son of a bitch before it gets too dark to _give_ him said rations. Get his perimeter report. Y'know, all that fun shit.”

There was no missing the disapproval in Clementine's expression. The hardening of honeyed gold and flinch in her pupils, her grip tightening on the crutches until the caramel skin of her knuckles paled. Her bitter feelings toward the ex-whisperer were no secret to Violet.

Violet nudged her gently with her elbow, pulling her lover from her brooding. “I get it, Clem. I do. But he's useful and, like it or not, having an early warning system like him, having a wall of walkers hiding this place... I think that's worth a few meals on our part, don't you?”

Clementine screwed her eyes shut. Inhaled and then huffed. The tension in her shoulders releasing a little. “I know you're right, it's just I don't like relying...” her voice trails off for a moment before her face softens. “Talk to him about taking the walkers out a little further toward the valley. I want you and Louis to start thinking about setting up some safe houses and bolt holes for the longer commutes. And maybe even making contact with some of the other settlements further out west.”

“You're the boss.”

Clementine nodded, tongue running over her bitten lip. “So...” drawing out the 'o' for a few beats to catch Violet's attention. “AJ wanted to think? About what?”

“Tenn mostly. I think he wanted to finally lay what happened at the bridge to rest. Shed the last of the guilt he's been carrying around. That shit, the ghosts it leaves you with, it can really eat at you.” A dark chuckle echoed through her nose. “Worse than the walkers even.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Images flickered in Clementine's mind's eye, shuffling through all the faces of the people who had entered her life when she had needed them most only to leave her again. Carly and Doug... Christa... Omid... Jane and Luke... Duck... Kenny...

 _Lee_.

“Vi?”

“Mmm?”

“I'm glad he has you to talk to about things like that. He tries so hard to pretend that he's OK, but no one could be OK after that night. After everything that happened with Lilly, James, Tenn and then me. I don't think he quite knows how to process everything. And he sure as shit doesn't know how to talk about that night to me.” She swallowed hard against the lump that was forming in her throat. The intensity of her own memories stifling. “It's like he thinks he has to put up a strong front for me nowadays. Like he's afraid that that I'll break even more or disappear completely if he doesn't protect me from everything, even himself.”

She didn't understand how it had happened or even when, but at some point Clementine had stopped walking, the world a buzzing haze of confusing images and conflicting emotion fogging her mind. Violet silently moved from behind her and shifted to stand before her; the cool touch of her palm soothing, fingers cupping to her jaw and tilting her eyes to her own, her thumb stroking the apple of her cheek. Dark lashes slipped over glittering amber as Clementine felt her entire body sag into the gentle touch.

“I'm scared, Vi. I'm scared that I'm not _me_ anymore. Scared that maybe I will completely break like Kenny did, or give up like Sarah.”

Violet's free fingers reached out for Clementine's, curling around them and drawing her knuckles away from its grasp on her right crutch and pressing them to her chest. The fingers around Clementine's jaw tightening, drawing her closer until their foreheads touched, until they were nose to nose. “Do you want to know what I know?”

Clementine nodded slowly, her eyes closing. When Violet's lips moved again, they brushed hers momentarily. The hands that held her remained still, neither forcing her closer nor preventing her retreat if she changed her mind, but simply there.

“I know that you think that you should have died that night and I know that you're scared because you didn't.” Violet pulled back shyly, peering from beneath her lashes as she shifted the position of her hand cupping Clementine's jaw. She trailed her fingers along the slender line of Clementine's throat before skipping lightly up to loosely tangle into the curls at her nape as she leaned up again. “You are scared because you don't understand why you survived the bite when Lee didn't. But you did survive. And you survived because you're strong. Stronger than Sarah, stronger than Kenny... Stronger than even Lee. You are not any one of the people that you've lost Clem, you are a combination of all of them. Of all of their strengths. But, most importantly...”

Her head tilted, this time her touch was firmer and more confident, her lips forming around hers in a deeper kiss. And as Clementine melted into Violet's arms, melted into the kiss she heard Violet whisper softly.

“You _are_ Clementine.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd drop the rabbit if I were you." The stranger froze at the sound of supple wood creaking behind him and Violet slid her feet silently, bringing her closer to her cornered quarry. "And ditch any weapons you have on you, unless you'd rather I just put this arrow through the shit you call your brains right now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this chapter has been a pain in my ass to write. It ended up being over 12,000 words before I went in and hacked out a whole bunch and I couldn't find a good place to split it without stalling out both this chapter and the next. Now I'm a little worried that it feels a bit cluncky and clumsy. 
> 
> Warning for those who wish to avoid it, at the end of the chapter is smut, so if you wish to avoid it the second chapter break (chapter breaks are marked as -*-*-*-*-) would be a good place to end.
> 
> If not, then enjoy the smut. I've never written f/f before, I hope it reads well enough.

**Chapter:3.**

“Shit!” Violet muttered quietly, the toe of her boot flipping away another broken snare without the spoils to show. “That's the second trap raided.” She tilted her head over her shoulder to where Louis crouched, his nimble fingers carefully resetting one of the snares. “Lou, any luck?”

The young man's tidy dreadlocks bounced as he nodded, holding up his prize. A rabbit, its neck broken, dangled limply from his fist. Violet sighed as she rose to her feet, the bow strung across her shoulders rising and falling with the exaggerated breath. At least this run wouldn’t be a complete waste, a lighter haul than she had hoped for but at least they had something. They had collected two small rabbits and a huge snowshoe hare and now, as Louis carefully reset the sprung snares, anxiety was beginning to make itself known, coiling like a fat cold serpent in her belly, it's disturbing whispers leeching into her thoughts.

_Someone you don't know has been here. Someone you don't know has been in your territory. Tampering with your traps. Stealing your game. You do remember what happened the last time a stranger stole from you... You do remember Abel and Lilly... Minnie..._

Violet shuddered against the treacherous thoughts, the dark voice of darker fears poisoning her confidence. The sooner they could leave and get back to the school, behind their walls, she happier she would feel. “I don't like this.”

Louis cocked his head, casting a critical eye over his blonde companion, scrutinizing her every tense line and angle before he raised a quizzical brow at her. The anxious energy rolled from her rawboned form in waves as arms came up to fold over her chest. Her old defensive instincts kicking in as her shoulders curled inward, making herself smaller and averting her eyes to purposely avoid his. “I dunno, Lou. I just... I have this really weird feeling. It's way too quiet out here.” She tilted her face toward the skies, hand raising to shield her eyes from the white glare of the scintillating afternoon sun. “Shit. We'd better haul ass back to the school. James and the un-dead border patrol will be passing this way soon, and I-”

A high, shrill cry of panic and the papery lash of a snare engaging disturbingly close to them startled Violet's train of thought into a stall. A rabbit would not have broken cover while they were still very clearly present. The animal would have scented them or at the very least heard them and bolted back to the safety of its warren. For it to run blindly into a snare meant that something else was nearby.

Barely a moment after the realization struck, the anxiety fled the blonde's green eyes, replaced with a determined gleam and her chin whipped around, catching Louis's gaze for a moment. His own usually warm eyes took on a hardened edge, flicking briefly to the side in a wordless exchange. He smoothly, easily rolled from his squat and pushed himself back onto his feet, chin jerking to indicate his direction of choice, his left, before Violet nodded her understanding and darted almost silently into the undergrowth to the right. She didn't need to look back to see if Louis was moving, mirroring her movements and circling to approach from a parallel angle. Their maneuvers had a practiced ease, a fluidity born of their shared experiences these last few years had afforded them in their new roles as the schools scouts.

Pressing herself into a hollowed out and twisted trunk of a long dead chestnut tree, strangled by overgrown huckleberry bushes and deer fern, Violet stilled and waited. Peering through the throngs of leaf and berry that distorted her outline, she could easily see the swinging snare and dead rabbit. A moment later a single whistle bounced through the clearing ahead, Louis confirming that he had found himself in similar suitable cover and gotten himself into position.

Pulling one of the home made arrows from the quiver tied at her hip, Violet tapped the flint head twice against the tree trunk, signaling her own position before stringing the bolt to her bow. The pads of her fingers curling the string loosely while her knuckles firmly grasped the fletching in preparation of her draw.

Violet closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, quieting the anxiety and nerves still screaming for her to break cover and flee. Instead she focused herself, readying her resolve to face wherever this confrontation might lead her.

The crisp blanket of dying fall leaves rasped under the tread of whatever it was moving ahead of them, circling toward the tripped snare. Slowly. Carefully. And terrifyingly even. Violet's heart tripped faster, the chilling fingers of fear winding along her nerve endings. This was not the unsteady and shambling approach of a walker, this was a living trespasser. Sliding her rear foot out and leaning barely forward, the young blonde watched carefully as the bushes a few feet beyond where she assumed Louis's hiding spot to be parted, belching out a roughened and shaggy looking man, easily more than a decade her senior. And, in his hand, he carried two more rabbits, their stolen catches.

“Shit. Well, it's not much, but three small rabbits for the pot's better than none.”

His voice was low, smooth. In another time where they weren't scrabbling for survival, you might even call it comforting. But to Violet's ears, it was threatening and unfamiliar, and that was enough to have her survivalist instincts clawing at her to either shoot him or run. She didn't recognize him, that meant that she didn't know him. He was not one of their contacts from the other settlements and that made him dangerous in her experience. Ducking her her head back, Violet took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing her skittering heartbeat to still in her chest and for her blood to stop thumping in her ears. Once she felt more in control of herself, she leaned back out. The stranger was busy, his clumsy and visibly shaking fingers fumbled with the snares slip-knot while he presented his vulnerable back to her like a god damned bullseye.

It didn't appear that he was purposely sabotaging their traps. Far from it if she were to be honest. His care in untying the snare rather than cutting the rope revealed his intent on remaining inconspicuous rather than obvious. However, even if this proved to be true, it brought Violet very little comfort. He was still a stranger, dangerously close to the school and he was stealing the food from their mouths. Silently pivoting from behind her dense coverage, Violet raised her bow and drew her arm back in a single fluid motion. Her lips brushing the arrow's plastic vanes as she spoke.

"I'd drop the rabbit if I were you." The stranger froze at the sound of supple wood creaking behind him and Violet slid her feet silently, bringing her closer to her cornered quarry. "And ditch any weapons you have on you, unless you'd rather I just put this arrow through the shit you call your brains right now."

"Alright, alright." He sighed, dropping the limp rabbits and fishing a wicked looking blade from his belt, tossing it carefully behind him and raising his hands to shoulder height in surrender. "Look, I'm sorry, OK? I didn't know it belonged to you. Hell, I didn't know any of this-"

"You often just magically find meat dangling from trees in traps that you didn't set? Handy little talent that. You wanna know my talent? I can smell bullshit a mile away. And you reek of it.”

"I, well... um." He shook his head and huffed his irritation. "Look, I was just passing through. Making sure the way was clear of the walkers so my group can travel through safely.”

“A group, huh? I only see you.” Violet snipped, as she cautiously lowered her bow, the shoulder of her draw arm burning from the prolonged strain. As quietly as she could, Violet moved in closer and picked up the blade, testing its heft in her hand briefly before slipping it into the leather quiver at her hip and taking up her armed position again. “How many are in your group?”

“There's seven of us.”

“Seven?” She tensed again, eyes darting, watching for any movement that might betray a possible ambush from any of his potentially hidden companions. “Where are they?”

“Not here, if that's what you're scared of. There's an old train station, about a mile east of here. I left them there. To keep them safe.”

Violet snorted. Silently pleading that her voice remained steady. “Eat shit, asshole! I'm not scared.”

“Sure kid. Whatever helps.” She could hear the smirk in his voice, the self assured smarmy tone had her hackles rising in irritation. But when he spoke again he just sounded tired. “Look, you have your rabbits back, just let me go and I promise that I'll take my people and leave. Just another shitty day on top of more shitty days for me and my group."

She couldn't help it, a scoff and a bark of laughter bubbled from her lips, no mirth just scorn. "We've all had shitty days! You're not special."

She watched as the guy balked at her words. Almost as though her retort had punched him in the gut. He cocked his head over his shoulder, his dark eyes meeting her hardened gray-green ones. Violet scowled harder as a small look crossed his face, almost as though he was disappointed. "What?"

He blinked slowly, moving himself around to face her properly at an equally slow pace. "Huh?"

The blonde tossed her head, ashen locks falling messily across her forehead. Her arrow still poised to fly through his head if she so chose. "You're fucking staring!”

"Sorry, it's just, you remind me of someone I knew once.” The guy shook his own head and risked slowly moving a hand to scrub over his face. Fairly confident that if she intended to kill him, she would have already. People nowadays were, after all, far more prevalent to shooting first and regretting later. “A kid, about your age. Well, I mean she'd be about your age now. She helped me and my family a long-"

Somewhere to the left of the pair, a single long and sharp whistle bounced among the foliage, splitting the air in a shrill warning. Chin jerking up, Violet narrowed her gaze at him momentarily before her piercing eyes flickered between his face and slightly over his shoulder. Her fingers on the bowstring flinched, shoulder tensing as she steadied her aim. Taking a hasty step back, the guy pulled his hands up in front of him, eyes widening in shock. "Woah there, kid! Just take it easy! Don't do anything stupid."

A whispered ‘ _thwang’_ had him instinctively recoiling as the arrow left the string and whistling past his ear so closely that he swore he felt the plastic vanes sting his flesh, followed an instant later by a wet ‘ _thunk’_ indicating that the arrow hand sunk itself heavily into something solid a ways behind him. Turning slowly, he watched in surprise and begrudging admiration of the girls aim as a walker crumpled less than five feet behind him, it's milky eyes fixed on him and snarl still clinging to its lips.

He swung his gaze back to her, eyes wide in surprise as a second figure silently emerged from the trees. Louis sidled up beside Violet, his doe brown eyes held a distrustful hardness as he cautiously eyed the older guy. Without breaking eye contact he tapped two knuckles against Violet's bicep, pulling the blonde's focus from the crumpled corpse to his hands. His long fingers moved in crude gestures, unpracticed in his signing, but Violet picked up the gist from the way he gestured to the stranger before pointing to themselves. She shrugged one shoulder before stalking toward the walker, intent on retrieving the arrow from the now fully dead corpse's skull.

"I dunno, Lou. Just looks like another shithead helping his greedy ass to our snares to me." Her voice faded a little as she reached the rotting body. Grabbing the wooden shaft firmly in her hand and pinning its head with her boot to steady herself she yanked the bolt free, the sticky sound of shredding flesh and tearing sinew dominating the silence. "Shit. James is gonna have my ass for this."

Striding back and flicking the remaining gore from the deadly projectile in her hand, Violet roughly shoulder checked the older guy as she passed him. Meeting his frown as he stumbled backwards a step with a challenge in her own eyes before she slung her bow back across her shoulders and shoved the retrieved bolt back into the bundle at her hip. She held his glare without blinking as she bent and snatched up the forgotten poached rabbits and moved back beside Louis.

“Hey!” He protested weakly, indignant that these kids were robbing him of the meat until she fixed him with a withering glare.

“What?!” The blonde snarled as she shoved the rabbits into Louis's arms.

“I have people counting on me.” He tried limply.

“Well, looks like they're shit outta luck then doesn't it? And let's not forget, you were stealing these from us.”

At least the guy had the decency to look ashamed as he lowered his eyes away from the young woman’s accusatory glare.

Snorting as she turned herself back to Louis, Violet felt her shoulders sag as she pinched her fingers across her eyelids, massaging slow circles with the pads of her index and thumb to the bridge of her nose. "So, what do we do now? We can't stay here much longer and we can't just let him go. If he's found his way here once already and has people out there, then we could be setting ourselves up for trouble. But I really don't like the idea of taking him back with us." Her voice, muffling through her palms, sounded strained. She groaned her frustration into her flesh before scrubbing her hands through the her ashen locks. “Shit. This was meant to just be an easy trip. Drop off rations to James. Check the traps. But now, we got this asswipe on our doorstep and I don-”

"Javier."

He watched her gaze briefly flick to Louis, her arms coming down to fold over her chest and her brow tugging low over eyes stained with distrust. She turned that suspicion onto Javi, mouth set in a thin line as she squared her jaw and silently waited for him to continue.

He paused and took a breath, exhaling it slowly to buy a few more moments of silence. All of their bravado, all the talking themselves around in circles, each trying to gain the upper hand in this discussion was getting them nowhere fast and the girl had mentioned something about not being able to stay here for much longer. "My name, it's Javier. Javi if you'd prefer. I've been leading my group through the wilds for almost a year, it's been hard and now some of them are wounded." Again, Javier paused before he carefully met the two young survivor's hardened eyes, his own open and earnest. “Please, we are good people. Refugees. We're all that's left of our home. We're looking for a little help, that's all. Someplace safe where we can heal up without getting killed or eaten.”

They spent a few minutes in silence. Louis's eyes were the first to lower and soften, staring at the ground as he sheepishly kicked at a small rock half buried in the earth. Violet's face was neutral, her eyes held no change in expression, but her shoulders had stiffened minutely. Javi opened his mouth to say something more, to hopefully finally convince the two younger survivors that he was no threat when a terrifyingly familiar sound curled in around them, seeping between the trees like a mist, the chilling song of the dead.

Violet's head snapped up, eyes shifting to where the rolling moans and growls sounded loudest. “Shit. We're out of time. Louis!” The young man swung to face his companion, his previously softened features steeling themselves as he awaited his companions order. “Grab the haul and him,” She jerked her thumb at Javi before moving past him and drawing the meat cleaver from her belt. “and get yourselves moving back to the school. Wait for me at the shack. I'll be right behind you!”

Louis frowned but nodded. Starting forward, he swung his head around to see if Javi was following when he heard no footsteps behind him, but Javi was just standing there, staring off into the trees behind where Violet had planted herself, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. “That's coming from the direction of the station.” He said, his voice was hoarse, concern strangling his words. “I- I need to go. To get back to them...”

Violet felt her throat tighten against the frustrated snarl trying to claw its way out. “Are you fucking insane? There's a herd coming this way. You're cut off!”

“But, I...”

“Are they armed?”

“What?”

Violet set her jaw, the chorus of snarls and moans rising in volume, threatening to drown out her words. She forced herself to pull her temper back in check as she spat her words out harshly, slowly. “Are. They. Armed? Or did you take the only weapon your group had, leave them defenseless while you wandered around in a strange forest alone like some fucking moron?”

Javi's hackles rose as he scowled back at the young woman, irritation darkening his eyes at the sharp barb. “They have weapons. And they know how to protect themselves-”

“Then don't be stupid!” Violet dropped the anger from her tone though impatience still clipped the words. She waved the hand brandishing the heavy cleaver toward Louis who was a little further off, collecting the rest of their prey and a heavy looking chair leg adorned with crooked and bent nails protruding from the wood. “We'll take you back with us until the herds pass and we figure out exactly what to do with you. But, right now, I need you to move your fucking ass it that direction. You think you can do that before my ass gets chewed up by walkers?”

Javi slowly released the breath that had hitched painfully in his throat. Cheeks puffing as he attempted to calm the storm of concern for his group and the irritation of taking orders from a kid barely out of her teens. It took him a moment to compose himself, his temper betrayed only by a slight wobble in his voice as he spoke. “Fine!” Without another word, he turned on his heel and jogged to catch up with Louis before he disappeared from sight.

 -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Louis moved around the thick wooded areas at a confident and sure-footed pace, his open jacket flapping about his legs, caught in the draft. He didn't look back to check if Javi was keeping pace behind him, he didn't even look back to check and see if his blonde comrade had caught them up yet. Instead he just strode on, fingers clenched around the primitive looking weapon resting against his shoulder and strung bundle of rabbit meat bouncing at his hip as he stepped purposefully toward what looked like a run down old shack.

Peering over his shoulder, Javi felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. “Uh, Louis?” He ventured, turning his eyes to fix on the tidy tangle of dreads that tumbled past the cut of jaw. “Shouldn't we wait for your friend to catch up? She's been gone a while.”

A single shake of his head. _'No.'_

“She might need help though.” The youth barely turned to face him, his eyes had that cold edge of distrust to them again. Somehow, Javi felt convinced that the hardness to him was a new development. He couldn't explain why he felt that to be true, but the way that the young man wore the expression just looked uncomfortable and unpracticed upon his features. “Maybe we should go back for her. Give her a hand or-”

Louis stopped abruptly, his free hand digging into his jacket pocket and fished out a tattered looking notepad and pencil. He scribbled something in the notebook before turning it to Javier to read. _'Violet knows what she's doing. We don't have far to go until we reach the shack. We wait there for her, like she told us to.'_

Javi opened his mouth to argue but the younger of the pair had already turned away again, increasing his pace. Gut clenching at the snub Javi was left with little choice but to continue following his guide, grumbling quietly under his breath as he did so. The blonde girl, Violet as Louis had said -written- still had his knife. Even if Javi were inclined to start a scuffle and attempt to make a run from the young man's presence, he wouldn't get far, not with that herd of walkers lurking in the depths of the forest coupled with the fact that he had no idea how to navigate the trees.

Louis, much to his frustration, knew what he was doing as he led him deeper into the woodlands. The path they had walked had been filled with deliberate twists and turns, intended to further confuse Javi's sense of direction. It was glaringly obvious that the two young survivors knew this area extremely well, which meant that they resided in the area and that in turn meant that they at least had a camp. Violet had mentioned a guy named James a couple of times before they separated. He assumed that this James was part of their group, perhaps even their leader, although if Javi were honest, he would have pegged Violet for that role. She seemed more the type to make orders rather than take orders. His eyes dropped back down to the tidy bundle of prey still bouncing at Louis's hip. But if there were only three to their group then why did they need so much? No, there had to be more to their numbers.

Javi, groaned softly, his voice catching Louis's attention and resulting in a second scrawled note. _'Dude, you lucked out. We aren't as bad as others out there.'_

Irritation rankled through Javi's thoughts and seeped into his retort. “Your friend introduced herself by going all Robin Hood on my ass.”

Another note. _'Yeah, Vi's not a huge fan of people. But, to her credit, she did save your sorry ass.'_

“Yeah, _after_ she took my weapon and left me defenseless.”

Louis shrugged. Carefully tucking the paper and pencil back into his pocket, clearly done with their small talk as silence settled over the pair again. Ahead, through the dense trees, Javi was just starting to pick out the welcomed outline of a ramshackle building and, if he strained his ears, the gentle bubbling voice of running water. A few more minutes filled with stiff silence saw them across a surprisingly well maintained bridge and standing before the dilapidated shack. Louis then leaned in, grabbed the rusted door knob and pulled the door open, nodding for Javi to enter before he closed it behind them.

The interior was dark and the air musty, but the walls; despite the gaps, the broken screens and the encroaching vines and weeds, were fairly solid. There was a fireplace in the back and an old mattress wedged between shelving racks and a wooden table surrounded by overturned chairs. Javi's eyes adjusted to the gloom and he could pick out other fixtures, ones that marked this as more a cabin rather than the shed like shack he'd first envisioned.

“Is this your camp?” He asked Louis as he curiously investigated the broken bathtub. Head turning as the youth snorted with a shake of his head, mimed casting a rod before he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the doorjamb, his eyes studying Javi as he continued investigating. Javi felt exhaustion seep into his body. He was tired and hungry and anxiety thrummed loudly in his ears. He moved toward the table and began busying himself in righting the overturned chairs just for want of doing something to distract himself. The wooden legs skittered over wooden floorboards and squealed in protest of their sudden manhandling as he pulled one over and flopped heavily onto it. All he wanted was to get out of here, get back to his people and leave the area. He lowered his chin and closed his eyes, intent on steadying his breathing and ignoring Louis when he caught the sound of voices outside, though they were too low and muffled by the walls for him to pick out conversation.

Louis pushed himself off the wall and stretched when a light tap and a familiar voice echoed through the silence. “Hey, Louis. It’s us. Open up.”

_Us?_

He grabbed the doorknob and opened the door once again. The late afternoon glare flooded into cabin, slicing through the gloom in blades and momentarily scorching Javi's adjusted eyesight as he turned to face the newcomers. He hissed against the sting, lifting his palm to shield his light sensitive eyes and blinked rapidly in an attempt to rid himself of the white lights that swam in and out of his vision. Just as his sight once again adjusted to the glare and he chanced a look toward the new people, the door was closed again and he was thrown back into darkness. Scrubbing his knuckles across his eyes, Javi sighed his frustration. Again, like the path that Louis had cut through the forest, the action seemed planned and practiced. Another method to keep him disoriented and complacent.

Unnerving quiet surrounded him, punctuated only by the sounds of several sets of feet and a strange, rhythmic _'clack’_ and _‘thump’_ sound moving over the floorboards. It was swiftly followed by the sounds of more chairs scraping and dragging as the small group crowded the other side of the table. By the time he lowered his knuckles and blinked away the encore of white blotches dancing over his vision, Javi felt his gut clench and his heart slam into his ribs as he found himself staring in bewilderment. Ignoring Violet, Louis and a young kid he hadn’t met before as they settled, flanking either side of a familiar face wearing a less familiar expression.

“Clem?” Javi’s voice wavered under the sudden surge of emotion as he sat, trying to process the reappearance of the young woman who he had met six long years ago when she was a teen. He felt a swell of relief at the flash of recognition in her gaze, though his excitement faded just as swiftly as the amber rapidly hardened, shuttering him out once more. He swallowed against the hard lump of disappointment that caught in his throat and croaked. “I... it's so good to see you again.”

“Don't, Javi.” She warned. Her mouth twitched into a thin line, the tightness in her jaw and the dark flash in her eyes quickly warning him that she wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. “What are you doing here? How did you even get here?”

Her shortness and brash tone caught him off-guard and saw him floundering. “I came, looking for help.” Taking a moment to draw a calming breath, still stunned by her sudden reappearance, Javi  shook his head and leveled his voice. “Richmond is gone. I’ve been traveling for a while, until your buddies here ambushed me-”

“Ambushed? You were raiding us. Don't start making out like we're the assholes here.” Violet snorted in disgust. Bracing her foot against the table edge, she tipped her chair back so that it teetered on two legs and narrowed her eyes at him. “You're lucky I didn't just drop you right there and then or let that walker take a chunk out of your ass.”

Javi sent the blonde a dark look, her pissy attitude toward him wearing on his last nerve. “Alright _Vi_ ,” He snapped back, smirking in bitter amusement at the surprise that darted across her face when he used her name. “You can put your dick away. I’m sure we're all impressed by your bad-assery, sneaking up-”

He paused mid-insult as Violet let her chair drop back onto all four legs with a jarring thud and lunged to her feet, eyes blazing her outrage and looking ready to drag him over the table. “You know what, fuck you!”

“Enough!” Clementine broke in sharply. Her voice steady but the authority in her tone was unquestionable. “Sit down, Vi.”

If Javi had been unsure of who was in charge before, now he was certain. Clementine placed one hand on the pistol that the young boy had drawn and now had trained on Javi -when the hell had the kid pulled that?- and subtly pressed the barrel down. A wordless order that the kid immediately obeyed, lowering the weapon before fixing Javi with an unsettling look. Like staring into the eye of a circling shark, calculating and thoughtful. Her other moved to wrap her fingers around Violet's thin wrist, squeezing gently.

Palms still flat on the table between them and anger still whipping through her insides, Violet glared wordlessly at Javi before folding her arms over her chest and thumping heavily back into her seat, cold fury rolling from her in waves. “Violet told me that you have a group with you, that you have wounded.” Clementine paused, swallowing as she pulled her train of thought back onto track after the disruption. “If you want our help with your people then I wouldn't be making enemies with mine.”

The dark haired man felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. He didn't like how distrustful Clementine seemed to be of him, or where this conversation was heading. And to further twist his knot of discomfort, his outburst with Violet seemed to have rankled not only Clementine, but both the boy and Louis who had moved from his slouch against the door to stand at Jav’s shoulder. Their eyes fixed firmly on him, anticipating another outburst, and he wasn’t sure that Clementine would be so quick to shut down the next one.

“How many people do you have? Who made it?”

“Including me, there's seven of us.” He relented. “Kate and Gabe, Eleanor. Two kids about your age, friends of Gabe’s, Liam and Isabella. And Conrad-”

Clementine didn't prevent the way her shoulders visibly tensed at the mention of Conrad’s name. Something that both Violet and the boy picked up on. The clear discomfort emanating from her had Violet frowning, though she refused to press Clementine for details.

The boy, however, had less tact. “Conrad? Who's that? A bad man?” He swung his eyes to Javi, the dark irises taking on an almost fathomless, chilling edge. “We don't help bad people.”

Javi refused to look the boy in the eye. The coldness in them unsettled him. “He's not a bad guy. He's just-” He paused, eyes moving to meet Clementine's as she stared back, her expression unreadable but she made no attempt to share her previous conflict with the man. “he's been through a lot. Sometimes he doesn't think. But you don't need to worry about him. I'll keep him in line.”

“Oh,” The boy lowered his eyes thoughtfully, contemplating Javi's words before he turned to Clementine. “So, he has trauma, right Clem? Like mine?”

Clementine frowned, her shoulders tensing further as she considered the boy's question. She glanced down to busy herself in picking at a loose thread escaping its seam in her pant leg in an attempt to collect her thoughts and settle the nervous agitation that nagged at her before answering. “Something like that.” She said quietly. Her voice gentle, yet the words carried with them an undertone of warning that the boy shouldn't press her more. She raised her head and met Javier's defensive gaze and holding it without wavering. “Why do you need us if you have Eleanor? She's your medic still right?”

Javi notably balked under the same biting tone, realizing that his chance to convince her to help was slipping away from him. “Eleanor has done all she can do with our supplies. What we need now is somewhere secure and safe where we can rest and finish recovering.” He shook his head slowly, eyes closing as he internally cringed at the pleading tone in his own voice, hating the feeling of being so horribly exposed. “Clem, please. You can't just leave us out there. Our wounded, they won't last much longer without help-”

“I'm not going to fight with you over this Javi.” She interrupted, almond eyes hardening as she glared fearlessly right back at him and her voice heating with temper. Her guard was up again. He felt his chest tighten and his throat grow uncomfortably dry at her next words. “I'm not heartless, but I'm also not who you need to convince.” She gestured to Violet and Louis. “We're a team, you want our help? Convince them and we'll grant you temporary residence while you heal.”

Javi's brows furrowed, eyes flicking to silent young man, following him as he moved and made his way around the table until he was positioned behind both Violet and Clementine. Then Javi's eyes fell to Violet and he cringed inwardly at the hardened scowl that she turned on him. After his insults and snappish retorts that he had thrown her way, convincing her would be far more difficult than persuading Louis.

“You can make your case to them now, or you do it while they take you back to the clearing where they found you. Either way, I've already made my choice.” Clementine could see the flicker of hurt in Javi's eyes and the way disappointment tugged at his lips. “You'll return to your group tonight, we'll even send you back with food to see you through until morning.” She nodded to Louis who separated three of the rabbits from the bundle he still carried and tossed them onto the table in front of the man before he turned to hand the remaining prey to the young boy as Clementine continued. “A few hours after sun up, you will return to the clearing with your group. Vi and Louis will be waiting to either escort you to our home or take you to our outer boundaries. If you try to make your way back here tonight, or after you are taken to our border, I will see you as a threat and you will be treated as enemies.”

Javi hesitantly met the amber eyes of the young woman, uncertain of what he expected to read in their depths. To his disappointment they held nothing for him to read so he simply nodded in silence and pulled the rabbits closer before he let out a shaky breath. “I get it.” He lifted his gaze from the gifted rabbits and eyed Violet and Louis skeptically as he rose to his feet. “Looks like we've got a lot of things to discuss and some decisions to make.”

 -*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Violet mumbled quietly in her sleep, her body barely shifting under the thin sheets, her movements are drowsy and further tangling her thin legs in the nest of fabrics that she had cocooned around herself. Her dreams, the flickers of images that had once danced through her tired mind long since ended, and now she was simply adrift through the dark, empty shadows of a lighter sleep. Her senses were beginning to rouse, barely bobbing beneath the surface of awareness, her ears easily picking up the gentle sounds of the sleeping worlds predawn. The crickets soft chirping fading, replaced by the sweet calls of wild birds from somewhere in the forest, stirring the calm stillness of the boarding schools occupants at rest.

Without opening her eyes, a desperate and futile attempt to cling onto the sweet embrace of sleep for as long as she possibly could, the exhausted blonde hauls herself onto her front, further tangling herself in the fabric confines and huffed in defeat. Groggily raising her face from the folded pillow beneath it and forcing her lashes to part, she blinked the blurred world in and out of focus. Her sleep fogged mind clumsily clicking back into place.

Raising an uncoordinated hand to her scalp and raking her fingers through her hair, unhappy sounds grumbling in her throat as she found her fingers snagging in knots and tangles hidden in her flaxen strands. Flipping herself over and shuffling until her back met the rails of the beds headboard, Violet began to carefully tease the snarls and knots loose. it took her several slow blinks before realization jolted her in to full alertness that the spot beside her was empty. Cold.

Clementine was not there.

Violet would never have labeled herself a morning person, but she could count on one hand the number of times that she had slept in longer than Clem. That girl could sleep. And Violet often teased her mercilessly for it.

Clementine was seated upon the desk under the window, right leg bracing her weight against the floor, body half turned away from Violet as she scowled through the window. That in itself wasn't strange, windows were designed to be looked through after all. But what unnerved Violet and had her scrambling from under the covers was the fact that the rifle -one of the very few they had- that they kept in the corner of the room was no longer neatly propped against the wall, but in Clementine's grasp. The butt pressed to her shoulder and her head cocked as she peered along the length of the barrel.

“Clem?”

Clementine hadn't dressed yet, simply clad in just her short undershirt and cotton panties, the same things that she had worn when she had joined Violet under the blankets the night before. But the way that she held herself rigid and the way that she scowled through the telescopic sight snapped to the rifle, indicated that the young woman hadn’t stayed there long and had slept sparingly, if at all. “You're up already?”

“I am.”

“Did you sleep?”

“A little.”

The exhaustion was evident in Clementine’s voice. Sighing, Violet rolled herself from beneath the blankets and padded barefoot behind her on-edge partner until she was close enough to lean in and fold her arms around the narrow waist. “You need to sleep.” She murmured softly, sliding her thumbs along the sharp cut of hip bone and tilting her chin over Clementine's braced shoulder, her lips brushing tenderly along the slender throat. “ Something's bugging you. Do you wanna talk about it?”

The silence between them yawned like a chasm, bordering on uncomfortable before Clementine sighed and lowered the rifle, meticulously ejecting the magazine and emptying the chamber before leaning forward to prop it between the desk and wall. “Do you think-” Clementine began, her teeth worrying at her lower lip -a habit that was becoming frustratingly more and more frequent- and angling her chin away, granting Violet more skin to roam. “Do you think we're making the right choice? I mean, we don't exactly have a good track record with people from our pasts. Lilly maimed us. She killed some of us. Shit, she took Louis's tongue, your finger. An-and then Minnie, she...”

“Got into Tenn's head, got him killed and you bit.” Violet supplied when Clementine's voice withered. “Yeah, I know. I think about it all the time. The 'what if's' and 'what could have beens'... But I really do think this is a smart play, Clem. And, having another settlement further out westward, with people we already know...” Violet broke off as she leaned in closer, twining her fingers into Clementine's. “This isn't just on you, Clem. Me and Louis, we made our choices too. And you know we both have your back.”

A tiny smile toyed at the corners of her mouth. “OK, who are you? You don't sound like my Vi. You're far too diplomatic.”

Violet lips curled up into a toothy, lopsided grin, her fingers biting into Clementine's hips as she hauled her around to face her properly. Sea green caught on smokey amber, studying curiously as she watched the pupils dilate in a wonderfully familiar way, an itch that she knew how to scratch.

"I dunno Clem," She pitched her tone low, the bluesy lilt more prominent among her sleep roughened voice. “I think you'd have to agree that I'm extremely meticulous and attentive to the little details.” Carefully Violet shifted and pressed a cautious knee between Clementine's thighs, delighting in the enthusiasm as slender hips gave an interested press back against her.

Shifting on her perch, Clementine drew her knees up and around to cradle either side of Violet's narrow waist, her fingers guiding the blondes to the waistband of the cloth barrier between them before she abandoned the digits to grasp the edge of the desk beneath her. Violet felt her ears burn, the breathy gasps morphing into the pretty little mewls, igniting a thrilling warmth in her belly and bolstering her confidence as she crouched. She leaned in, mouthing and nipping over heaving ribs, the taut span of belly until she dropped to her knees and grazed her teeth along the crease of hip, Clementine's voice catching in her throat, a high bark of surprise that quickly gave way to a breathy sigh.

Violet's fingers curled tighter, clutching Clementine at the hip and pressing down a little harder against the smooth skin to hold her steady, her thumbs stroking tiny circles through the fabric and shifting lower. Her lips, still suckling around the delicate dips and curves, lifted into a grin as she relished the soft breathy sounds of encouragement as Clementine's eyes shuttered, dropping back onto her elbows as she found herself pressing urgently up into Violet’s touch.

Allowing herself a long moment to sigh a breathy moan, Violet rolled the natural smokey scent of Clementine's skin mixed with feminine arousal over her tongue, shivering and shifting on her knees, her own arousal setting her belly alight and squeezing her thighs together.

Violet felt her lips twitch gently upward at the change in Clementine's voice, how the soft sounds that had rolled easily from her lips sharpened into guttural cries and in the change in behavior as Clementine jolted. Felt her own excitement spike and her confidence bolster with every whimper and grind, the heady scent of sex dominating her senses. Violet hooked her fingers under the waistband and stripped the cotton away, easing her lover's damaged leg over her shoulder before folding her right arm under and around the hip, fingertips skating feather light touches and leaving gooseflesh in their wake. She allowed herself a moment to admire her view before ducking her head back down, thumb pad pressing between sensitive lips and circling slowly. The broad flat of her tongue parting her further and the stiffened tip flicking against the tight bundle of nerves with a practiced ease.

Clementine's hips rolled of their own instruction, following the motions of Violet's lips and tongue as best she could with Violet's right arm caging her in, restricting her movement. Shifting her weight slightly onto one elbow, she reached carefully along the length of her torso. Fingertips skimming her own trembling flesh and quivering muscle, trailing against the fingers and along the back of the lily white hand that spanned across her pubis and held her down. Trailed to the sharp nose nestled in the thatch of coarse curls, along the sharp defined angle of Violet's jaw, feeling it softly working through both her fingers and her sex. Skimming fingers traced her high cheekbones and short, fluttering lashes until they carded through the ashen bangs that hid Violet's eyes from the world.

Tangling her fingers deeper through the thin strands Clementine pushed the blonde curtain back, holding her in place and steady as her hips instinctively rolled, her thighs dropping open a little wider in invitation. Her own thicker lashes lowered as the clever tongue swept lower and the thumb pad that had been circling and spreading her wider stilled at her stifled cry. Glassy amber searched for the familiar green and Clementine found herself ensnared and pinned under Violet's intense gaze. Bewitched by the swirls of smoldering colour burning within the green, the gray undertones further inflaming her own lust until her hips gave a feeble buck and she tossed her head back with a low moan. The circling fingers finally breaching her, sinking easily into her warmth up to the knuckle.

Clementine could hear soft breathy mewls, her cheeks burning in her embarrassment to find that such a needy sound could tumbled so readily, unbidden, from her own lips. She could feel Violet's arrogant grin as it pressed against her, could feel the stuttered puffs of breath chilling against the warmth and damp between her thighs, and she felt the vibrations lance through her as the blonde momentarily hummed her delight at her lovers cries before hauling her closer by slender hips.

Clementine felt her world tilt at Violet's hands. The biting edge of the desk against the curve of her ass replaced by air and her own strength as her palms slammed to the wood either side of her hips, short nails rasping for purchase as she held herself steady. Her whole right leg braced hard against the floor with curling toes, her hips now forced to twist and, in turn, change the angle that Violet worked her from. Her partial left leg, still hooked over Violet's shoulder, flexed and tightened, forcing the blonde to bear more of Clementine's weight and drawing her in deeper.

Violet pulled her head back, swiping her tongue over her lips and admiring her handiwork before she roved her lips and teeth along the sensitive flesh along the join of hip and thigh. "Still with me?"

Violet's tone had deepened, her voice thick and rasping under her efforts and the lack of use, each word carrying the undertone of desire. Clementine nodded wordlessly, her chest labored under heaving breaths. She was beginning to unravel.

"You think you can hold yourself like this?" Violet's palms smoothed along the bronze legs, her eyes following their path and drinking in the sight of this strong young woman lain so open and vulnerable before her, wearing the look of her debauchery so beautifully that it felt almost sinful.

"Yes," Clementine croaked, her own voice cracking under the strain of disuse outside of breathy whimpers and cries. She winced slightly against the sharp sting of Violet's teeth as they pinched delicate, sensitive skin dangerously close to her labia. "But, I don't know for how long."

A soft chuckle and a softer kiss soothed away the sting. "Don't worry, I won't need long," Clementine curled her neck to peer at Violet in confusion, her lips parting to speak before the blonde cut her off. "Hold on tight, it's about to get wild."

The words had scarcely left her tongue before it damn near cleaved Clementine in two. Her hips jolted as firm lips surrounded her and suckled _hard_. The two fingers that slid into her before had returned and brought along a third for company, twisting sharply to press and hook along sensitive ribbed walls. The fingers that spanned across her mons shifted low, spreading her wide as the thumb found and pressed down on the sensitive hood of the rapidly tightening bundle of nerves. And Violet's mouth moved to engulf her entirely, her jaw working harder to ease the ache in her tired tongue and quickly build the pressure that would tip Clementine over the edge.

Every movement was hard and fast and so, so confident. All of the different stimuli Violet brought working together in an effortless dance choreographed to fit the melody of Clementine's voice. When she whined, the movements surged. When she mewled, they receded to a crawl. She screwed her eyes shut, struggling to piece together the bombardment of sensations into something that would make sense to her overwhelmed thoughts. Her voice was rising, the wordless noises morphing into ragged and fractured cries of Violet’s name. She managed to shift her balance to allow her to crawl a hand back into Violet's hair, twisting the flaxen strands back around her fingers and clinging to her desperately.

And then Violet hummed again. Long and unending, and suddenly the sensible world shattered for Clementine. She was falling and flying, drowning and singing. Her body aflame of fire and ice, and everything was too much but strangely not enough.

Violet's hand that had pinned her down dropped to catch her hips as Clementine's leg gave out, holding her as she still worked her with tongue and lips and teeth. Relishing in the almost silent howl and the sting to her scalp when Clementine instinctively dragged her closer as she rode out her climax against her face. When her body finally stilled aside from the tiny tremors and spasms of muscle clenching around her still trapped fingers, Violet carefully drew her tongue along the folds, barely a tickle and Clementine hissed in discomfort at the over stimulation. Her own fingers, still buried in Violet's hair gently tugged, begging her to help untangle themselves and move away so she could sink boneless to the ground.

As soon as the fingers inside her had carefully wriggled free, Clementine slithered slowly from the desk, Violet's hands carefully guiding her until she was seated with her back braced against the set of drawers built into the frame. Violet eased the still trembling legs over her hips, palms smoothing along the soft skin in comforting circles as she leaned in and placed a single kiss to the tip of Clementine's nose. “You should get some sleep, you look absolutely wrecked.” She laughed softly at Clementine's feeble attempt to fix her with a withering glare before the younger of the two snorted and raised her hand to Violet's grinning face, gently shoving her away.

“Ass.”

The blonde smirked and simply turned her face into the palm, nuzzling the skin. “I'm serious. Get some sleep and when you wake up, I'll be back. Safe.” She curled her fingers around Clementine's and drew the hand from her cheek, meeting her gaze with a hungry, familiar look, her pupils blown wide. “And you can make this up to me later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few points. Clementine might sound a little OOC toward Javi, but honestly, going by track record with people from her past biting her in the ass more often than not, I decided that writing her as a warm and open leader would be a little forced in this scenario. I do hope I was careful to leave the decision for aide and shelter unconfirmed and, because of that that, I chose to leave out the fact that Clem is an amputee as well as AJ's identity, having Javi know these things unless it was absolutely necessary would go against my Clem's character.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet sighed, yanking her hood further over her saturated face, hoping the already waterlogged material would offer some sort of protection from the sudden downpour, dampening the sting of each biting droplet. The dawn had been deceptively bright and warm, but it had very quickly given way to dulled and overcast skies. Then, in mere minutes, the rain had begun to fall in sheets. The canopy of the forest offering them no shelter, fat raindrops punching through branch and leaf alike like bullets from a gun. This wasn't just a passing shower, this was a torrential deluge. Pitting drops stinging off chilled glossy skin, soaking through the stitching of cloth and leather alike until both Violet and Louis were sodden and miserable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gahhh. This chapter took so long to write. Probably didn't help that I had to scrap it once and completely re-write several parts entirely. I'm not entirely satisfied with how this chapter ended up, but I'll go back in and edit it if I need to. I will also edit any spelling errors I see at a later date. 
> 
> UPDATE: Edit's are made.
> 
> Anyway. Things are starting to tick along now, and I'm mostly done setting up characters, now it's focusing on the main meat of the story.  
> Speaking of, next month is camp nano and I will be setting myself a target of writing 20,000 words for Built on Ash and Bone, so hopefully updates will be faster, maybe weekly.
> 
>  
> 
> Warning, this chapter also contains smut, plot assisting smut. Not as explicit as last chapter, but I still feel I should warn you.
> 
> It's after 2am now and skele is exhausted. I hope you enjoy

_****_ **Chapter:4.**

Violet sighed, yanking her hood further over her saturated face, hoping the already waterlogged material would offer some sort of protection from the sudden downpour, dampening the sting of each biting droplet. The dawn had been deceptively bright and warm, but it had very quickly given way to dulled and overcast skies. Then, in mere minutes, the rain had begun to fall in sheets. The canopy of the forest offering them no shelter, fat raindrops punching through branch and leaf alike like bullets from a gun. This wasn't just a passing shower, this was a torrential deluge. Pitting drops stinging off chilled glossy skin, soaking through the stitching of cloth and leather alike until both Violet and Louis were sodden and miserable.

The scent of the rain, dark and heady, lingers at the back of Violet's tongue with every breath. She moves and cringes against the oozing slide of wet fabric against her chilled skin, chilled fingers yanking the cuffs of her thin hoodie over her hands, more to protect them from the lash of water rather than the biting cold. An errant drop tickled a wet path along her temple, a teasing touch, finding a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear that had Violet recoiling in a violent shiver. Shaking her head sharply, her saturated flaxen strands whipping against and then sticking messily to her forehead and cheek.

“I fucking hate being wet.” She grumbled.

Louis tilted his head, catching her eye with a mischievous glint in his own. The first etchings of that familiar shit eating grin creasing his face. He brings his hands from the depth's of his pockets slowly and begins to move his elegant pianists fingers in a familiar flurry of motion and mist that has Violet's frown deepening.

“I swear to God, Louis! If you make that lame ass pussy joke of yours one more time, I'll hand feed you to the next walker I see!” She warned darkly.

His hands still, smirk flinching from his lips as he recoils a step in mock fear of his grumpy friend. One hand returning to the drier interior of his pocket, Louis reaches the still exposed one to wipe his own thoroughly drenched face. Squinting against the uncomfortable chill as a particularly fat and cold raindrop rolls along to the tip of his nose and drips onto his upper lip. As he moves his palm away, he casts a vaguely irritated glance toward the general direction of the train station, his roguish charm and humor dissipating, giving way to the first sign of his irritation that tightened the muscles in his jaw.

It was something that did not escape Violet's keen eye.

They'd been standing here, in the open, for too long. Christ, even Louis was starting to get antsy now. They'd wait a few minutes more before calling the venture a bust and head back to the school. They could hunt Javi and his group down once the cloudburst had cleared. Out here, right now, they were too vulnerable. The splash back of the rain, a mist that hugged the earth and smothered the underbrush, coupled with the sheeting rain limited their field of vision to a scant few feet in front of their noses and washed out the sounds around them to little more than a droning hum.

Violet cast one final check around them. Reluctantly admitting to herself for a moment that the wet forest depicted a haunting beautiful scene before shaking away the thought as another chill seized and had her shivering. With death always one wrong decision away it was best not to linger. “OK, Lou. Fuck this, lets go hom-”

Her words shriveled and died in her throat. Beyond the clearing, barely visible through the vapor shroud, the treeline shivered with a fetid lowing. Instinct and experience had Violet whirling on the spot, the slide of the mud beneath her feet giving her movements a graceful fluidity. Her wrist twisted around to her hip, cleaver in hand, as she armed herself and dropped easily into a defensive squat. Weight shifting on to the balls of her feet to ease her into her next movements, should they be either flight or fight. From the corner of her eye she could see Louis shifting and mirroring her stance, his eyes fixed firmly on what may lay beyond the shields of rain and mist and sodden leaf. The dense thickets of bramble and thorn rasp wetly, the breeze rolling through them like a wave upon the beach as Javi pushes himself through, followed by his small group looking equally as miserable to be out in the downpour.

“Jesus!” Violet growled. Pulling herself from the attack stance she had dropped into and sliding her cleaver back into her belt. She then folded her arms, scowling against the errant sting of a freezing pellet that plunked directly into her eye as well as the mud caked Javi as he melted into view from the murk and mist. “The fuck took you so long?”

“We had a little trouble finding the spot.” Javi grumbled, kicking back an errant tangle of berry bramble for two youths, half carrying a clearly injured girl between them. “Not the easiest task, what with the rain and that my last trek through was full of so many twists and turns that I couldn't tell my head from my ass.”

"I get your confusion, Javi. What with all the bullshit you were spewing yesterday, even I couldn't tell." Violet drawled, her words as saturated with sarcasm as her body was the rain. Violet scraped her waterlogged hair away from her eyes once again, her critical gaze roving over the faces as the final three of the group, two women and an older man, pushed through the thickets to crowd around each other shivering and holding one another on their feet. "If you guys are ready, I'd like to get this over with before I freeze my ass off here."

Slowly Javi slid his gaze just far enough to peer at his exhausted companions without the need to incline his head away from the blonde. The pain and exhaustion that marred their faces and clouded their eyes also carried with them a shadow of uncertainty. He returned his attention to Violet who simply tilted her head and raised a brow at him. "Isabella and Kate are gonna need a minute to catch their breath. It was a long walk for them, with a longer one to come and this rain isn't going to make it easier for them." He said flatly. “Nor will not knowing where we're going.”

The blonde pointedly ignored both Javi's expectant expression and his words. Instead she turned her focus over her shoulder to Louis, a wordless question in her eyes to which he responded to with a single nod. “Fine. Five minutes, then we leave.” She said, tone clipped with a flare of impatience. “I wanna get back to the school _before_ we all drown.”

 

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

 

By the time the old red brick building rose into view, muddied and waterlogged and embraced with its sullen twisted wrought iron gates, the cloudburst had finally passed. Violet walks wordlessly down the mud slick path, her heart both rises and sinks all at once. Rising because she is almost home, almost safe. Almost back to where she can slough her sodden clothes that hang limp and heavy from her frame and burrow under blankets and just sleep for an hour or two. But her heart also sinks, knowing that it's not just Louis and herself that tread this path. Behind her, a sad and miserable procession of Javier and his people trudge through the slick. She had meant what she had told Clementine that morning, that she believed this to be the right decision, she just couldn't fully shake the unease of bringing a group into their home after spending the last several years doing everything within their power to remain hidden.

Behind her, she caught the sharp intake of surprise and whispered distress as they passed a wide oak with a grisly warning still bound to it.

"Javi," The older guy, Conrad he had been introduced as, murmured. Nudging Javier with his elbow and directing his gaze to a withered body tied to a wide trunk that stood guard outside the school gate. It's weathered, leathery skin hung loosely from it's frame, a layer of lichen had begun encroaching upon its face, blooming forth from the knife wound that punctured through the temple. The body's death mark. "You seeing this shit, right? The fuck're these kids capable of?"

“Protecting ourselves. Asshole was part of a psycho child snatching raiding party that attacked us a few years back. Now he's a warning, and plant food.” She felt her lips twist into a line of grim satisfaction as she caught the startled, wide-eyed looks that rippled through the outsider group. Without glancing toward the gates, she raised her hand to signal to the teen that had been watching their approach from the walls. Held in his hand a longbow, loosely nocked with an arrow, which he lowered when he saw Violet's hand come up and point toward the gates, like a phantom he vanished from sight in a blink, a shrill wolf whistle rent the air beyond the barrier of brick and iron.

“OK,” The blonde turned to address the group, her voice hardening. Behind her, behind the gates, more occupants of the school gradually revealed themselves from various areas of the courtyard. Each of them hard eyed and wary, their suspicion fairly vibrating through the dampened air. “You will leave all weapons at the gates-”

“Hell, no!” Conrad said flatly. His fingers curling around the grip of the pistol he wore at his hip. “You kids don't get to order-”

Violet balked at Conrad's refusal, the words stung like a slap to the face as she felt the tightness in her jaw return accompanied by a flash of irritation that far outstripped her previous flares of temper with this group. She folded her arms across her chest, and leveled the older guy with a frown, a dark warning smoldering in the clear, green depths of her eyes. "You want in? You do as we say."

It was abundantly clear that trust was not simply a given here and Javier was starting to understand why. The idea of children being taken had sent a chill down his spine, coupled with the fact that their numbers looked to be in the single digits, it would be foolish for them to not take precautions. And if the other's were anything like what he had experienced with his encounters with Violet and Louis, these kids were a far cry from being fools. “It'll be fine man, do as she says.” He reached for his knife and, for the second time in two days, surrendered it over to Violet with a respectful nod. He noticed the tiniest ghost of a smile touch her lips and a flicker of gratitude soften her gaze. “It's their home. We're guests here.”

Conrad wore a look of utter betrayal as he watched Violet slip Javi's knife into her back pocket and the other armed members of his group followed suit, only they passed their own weapons to Louis. He whirled around to face his leader, his fingers flexing around the worn textured grip still holstered on his body in a tremor of nerveous energy. “Javi, you can't be serious man. We'll be defenseless. We-”

“Ya got wounded our there, right?” A new voice, a southern drawl, cut in sharply and pulled focus to a slightly heavier set girl with flaming red hair. She stepped a little closer, though still behind the protection of the gates, her hands settling on wide hips and a frown on her round face. “If y'all are wantin' our help, y'all follow our rules. Else y'all can march right back out into the wilds f'rall we care.”

“Conrad, come on man,” Javi tried again, this time he allowed a firmer insistence to bleed into his words. With each defiant exchange between Conrad and the kids, with each stubborn refusal, the tension in the air grew heavier and more suffocating. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, back to Isabella still clinging to her brother and Gabe for support, her face gaunt and blue eyes fever bright. Then to Kate, swaying unsteadily on her feet. Her weakened body sagging against Eleanor and her face, it was so pale and gleaming in sweat that it drove the sudden realization that their chance for help could be slowly slipping away. The very thought of losing his people simply because Conrad was a paranoid son of a bitch chilled his guts and flared his temper. “Be reasonable. We need their help and this is their _home!_ Your god damned mule ass is putting all our necks on the line.”

“It's a damned stupid move, Javi! Letting them take our weapons is a good way-”

“Holy shit! That's... that's Clementine?” Surprise whipped through Violet's senses, her chin snapping round at the quiet wonder in Gabe's voice. Her focus had been so invested in the disagreement between Javier and Conrad that she hadn't noticed the shift in Gabe's attention, nor had she noticed the appearance of Clementine behind her. “What the hell happened to you?”

Violet felt her muscles tense as the young man carefully released his grip on Isabella and made a movement to step forward and move past her, coiled and tight, ready to unleash at a moments notice and propel her into motion. The moment Gabriel took his first step away from his group and toward the school gates, the roiling tension in the air snapped. A sudden, terrifying tempest of movement that saw the both Javi and Violet darting forward. The former grabbed Gabe's shoulder and yanking him up short. His feet stumbling and his breath whooshing from his lips as he found himself slamming backwards against his uncle's chest, while the latter planted herself between them and her leader and lover, her hackles raised and bristling. “Hey! Back the fuck up. Now!”

Conrad responded in kind, only his instinctive reaction to what he perceived as a threat to his people was to draw his weapon. His fingers tightening around the worn grip as he hauled it from his hip, aim holding steady and belying his obvious skill with the firearm as he lined the gray metal muzzle upon Violet's chest.

“Jesus Christ, Conrad!” Javi barked. He hauled his nephew backwards, shoving him back behind him before he then threw his arm out and motioned for his companion to drop his aim. “The hell are you doing? Put the fucking gun down!”

“I tried to warn ya man, giving up our weapons is a damn stupid idea.”

Adrenaline flooded Violet's system, a muted roar that filled her ears and deafened her to the voices that eddied around her as fear settled it's cold weight into her gut and leadened her limbs. She had stared down the muzzle of a gun once before, though the eyes behind the trigger then had been familiar and clouded the blue with shame. But here, this time, the eyes held a terrifying clarity. This time, Violet's bluster had failed her and she shrank under the maw of cold steel, grinning beneath those clear, dark eyes that pinned her to the spot. She could feel the saliva in her mouth thicken and dribble down the back of her throat, threatening to choke her. Her peripherals blurred and her field of vision faded down to just that tiny dark void that seemed to bob with the rise and fall of her chest. Fear had so blinded her senses to the blur and hum of commotion behind her, that she barely even registered when warm fingers curled around her wrist and gently guided her backwards.

Too loud voices muddled in her ears and lanced through her brain, setting her teeth on edge and saw her stumbling backwards a step. And, suddenly, her world came screaming back into motion with Clementine standing there beside her, an immovable source of calm and comfort.

Swallowing hard, Violet rediscovered her voice, though it felt clumsy on her tongue. “Clem?”

“You OK?” Honey gold met and held gray-green for a moment, a warm wordless promise swirling through the shifting colours. Violet simply nodded, her wide eyes darkening as they slid away awkwardly.

Narrowing her own, Clementine turned her head from Javi to Gabriel, irritation simmering behind her gaze before finally turning a hardened glare onto Conrad. “Lower your gun _now_ , Conrad! I don't appreciate my people being pinned under your trigger.”

“And I don't appreciate mine being stripped defenseless.” The man rumbled back, his voice taking on a hardened edge in warning.

“Then leave! I won't stop you.” Clementine paused for a moment before her tone turned glacial, she held her chin high and with confidence, drawing the armed man's focus to herself instead of Violet. “But if one of you leaves, you _all_ leave and I'll sure as hell stop you from coming back.” Her warm grip, still on the shakened blonde's wrist shifted slightly until the soft thumb pad found the pulse point there and softly stroked in tiny comforting circles as she turned her focus once more to Javier. “You may have forgotten what happened before Richmond, Javi but I haven't. You want our help? Then you get your man under control or I want you and your people gone! Do not test me!”

“Conrad, come on man. Think about who you're risking. Kate and Izzie, they need this! This isn't-”

“Alright! Alright, I get it.” Conrad growled. His knuckles stiff were from how hard his fingers had been squeezing the hand-grip. The air around Javi and himself so brittle it could snap, though if it doesn't, he feels that he might. He allows his lids to slide shut as he loosens out a slow, controlled breath. His hands moving without instruction as he pops the bullet from the chamber and ejects the magazine, the motions so ingrained and practiced that he doesn't need to guide by sight, before he simply tossed the weapon down at his feet. “Just keep my mouth shut and fall in line.”

 

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

 

The internal walls of the school were cracked and the dull. Graffitied paint was peeling away in large flecks to flutter miserably to the floor like the broken wings of a butterfly. The windows were broken and consisted of mostly haphazardly nailed wooden boards, angled just so to keep out as much of the winds and rains as the broken glass allowed to pass, and the grand staircase that parted into two at the landing and lead to two separate wings, creaked and groaned ominously underfoot. This was where Clementine had directed Louis to lead Javi and his group up to the old faculty lodgings, while she and Violet disappeared down the opposite hall, toward a large office to discuss what had happened outside. Javier's gut clenched hard at the thought, he had noticed the comforting touches that had lingered just a little too long between the two young women during the confrontation. If he was correct and they were involved, then in these next few hours, Conrad's stand off would either pass as little more than a blip and a closer eye being kept on them or it would be the final trauma that would see them back outside the gates and would very likely claim the lives of their wounded.

"Javi, you see this place right?" Conrad's voice was hushed in wonderment as he trailed behind the group, carefully observing everything this place boasted. "You need to talk some sense into Clementine. Make her understand we'd all be better off if we stay here-"

"You're kidding right? After the shit you just pulled?” Javi felt his brain balk and stutter for a moment before a chill of irritation jump-started his thoughts and burned through his blood. "I really hope you aren't suggesting what I think you're suggesting." He hissed, dark eyes sharpening as they latched onto his companion.

"I ain't saying that we kick them out." Conrad grumbled quietly. "But they're just kids and you saw Clem out there, she's a goddamned tripod. No matter how strong she was before, she can't protect them now. But we can, we just need to make her let us stay. You could make her listen-"

“This is their home. They've built this place up by themselves. And Clem's clearly got a handle on things here, I know you saw their crops and livestock back there. That's more than I ever managed with Richmond."

"We could take this place, Javi. Put you in charge. Think about it, man. A home again. Somewhere safe. I mean, look at this place, it's a god damned fortress. Gabe and the kids could have a chance again... Gabe could have a chance to be with Clem-"

"We don't steal people's homes, Conrad. That isn't us." Javi cut in. He cast a wary glance along the hall at Louis's retreating form, and sucked a breath through his teeth in relief that the youth seemed oblivious to the exchange between himself and his companion. "And I'm pretty sure, while you were waving your fucking gun in Violet's face, that even _you_ could pick up that there's something between her and Clem."

Conrad snorted his derision. "You keep telling yourself that, man. We weren't exactly welcomed at Richmond-"

Javier whirled around on Conrad then, his hand gripping the older man's shoulder, forearm braced diagonally over his chest and throat as he backed him up against the wall. "I'm serious. You don't fuck this up!" He growled, voice low and carried a dark rumble. "If I catch wind of you stirring shit up, I'll throw you over the wall myself!"

Conrad's brow furrowed, lips skimming back from his teeth as he glared right back at Javier. The arm at his throat tightened for a moment, just barely restricting his breath. "Alright... alright, I hear ya."

Javier held his form rigid a beat longer before he stepped back, releasing his hold. "I mean it, Conrad. Whatever bad blood you're dragging up in your head and whatever shit drove you to put your gun on those girls out there, you lock it the fuck down. If they still let us stay, we're only here until Izzie and Kate are back on their feet, then we leave. For now, we keep our heads down and earn our keep. Clem says jump, I expect you to fucking jump. She has already promised her people will help us. Louis is going to take half of us out to find a safe place for ourselves, and Violet _might_ still help set us up with their contacts. That's more than we could have asked for and a hell of a lot more than they owe us."

 

*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

 

Violet pushed an empty dish aside and leaned across the oversized desk from her position beside the worn office chair. Her eyes flickering as she scanned the maps and notes. Her long, nimble finger ghosting the page written by her own hand, detailing who owed them payment for their services, the upcoming request for assistance, as well as upcoming scavenging and supply runs with some of the other scattered communities. "I've got a few favors I can call in with the others, so I'll head out tomorrow, leave our marker out on our border. See if any of my contacts from Riverside, Woodlow or Ambery can swing anything extra in their preserved foods to trade."

"Smart idea." Clementine settled back into the wide, worn chair and moved her hand to her chin, fingertips tapping at her lip thoughtfully. Even with their crops and animals, as well as their thankfully still productive wild prey bolstering their food reserves there was no way they could feed everyone for more than a week without severely dipping into their buffer stock of dried and pickled meats and vegetables. And doing so would leave them struggling to feed their own this coming winter. And their medical supplies would run out faster. "What about Birchwall? They still want our help on a supply run?"

Violet nodded. "Yeah. Chris wanted to head out in a few days. His scouting group found a few well off looking houses with buried bunkers that appear untouched. We get a third of whatever we find and salvage." She paused and drew her bottom lip between her teeth with her tongue for a moment in thought. "But it's risky. There's a chance that whatever poor fucks lived out there holed themselves up inside. We could be dealing with a bunch of caged walkers or worse, a rabid."

Clementine shivered. They'd heard horror stories from the other communities of encounters with rabids. Still living people, who had claimed hidden structures right at the start and, instead of running toward populated areas, in hopes of safety in greater numbers, they had spent the first years raiding homes and smaller medical facilities. Collecting and hording everything that people had overlooked in favor of grabbing laptops and personal comforts -convinced that the whole outbreak would be contained within a few months- packing their boltholes full of all the survival rations, medicine, and hygiene goods that they could find. Finding a rabids hoard would be a fucking godsend, especially now but dealing with the rabid was a terrifying prospect. They were unhinged, so broken and damaged that instead of laying down and letting death take them, they'd lost their sanity. The closest thing to a walker that a person could be without being bitten. Their minds simply driven by survival, overriding pain, exhaustion and fear, replacing it all with a fighting instinct that saw them robotically hurling themselves into they fray, over and over, even as their bodies were ripped to shreds. The only relief to be found with dealing with a rabid was that they were rare and solitary. "You got a plan in place in case that happens?"

Violet slid her gaze to Clementine's. She could feel the unspoken concern in her words and see it in in her posture. She smiled softly, hoping it looked more confident than it felt. "Sure do. I turn tail and fucking run."

“You got a team in mind?”

"Pretty much. I want AJ watching my back and Aasim would be good for our look out choice..." Violet shifted her hips and leaned back on her heels, and Clementine found her attention wandering, her gaze sliding along the sleek athletic build as Violet leaned across the desk. Clean strong lines of flat muscle, smooth humble curves of hips and ass. Everything about her lover's build was deceptive and understated. Hiding away her strength under the guise of fragility and delicacy. But Clementine was intimately familiar with her strength. Violet knew how to throw a punch. The way that she could wield her melee weapons with such grace and ease, cutting through walkers without breaking her pace. And those arms...She shivered. Violet could and has lifted her easily. Christ, there have been times where the blonde has had her pinned or manhandled in ways that sent her pulse rate skyward. "… Clem?”

“Hmmm?” Clementine murmured,not really listening. Her eyes focusing on those elegant fingers as they spanned and skipped over her papers. An interested thrill stirring in her belly and cheeks warming at the memory from this morning, of how dexterous they were and how cleverly they had played her. The gleam in Violet's eye as she had whispered about making it up to her later.

“Clementine!”

Clementine blinked hard and frowned. "What?"

Violet grinned, her eyes dancing and Clementine's heart twisted. "Lost ya for a sec there, didn't I?"

“Maybe for a second.” Clementine smiled back. Briefly touching her eyes before her face dropped back into that unreadable expression that she wore when brooding. “Thank you.” She murmured, glancing at the blonde who arched a brow in confusion.

“For?”

“For putting yourself between Conrad's gun and me. I don't like that you did it, but I appreciate it.”

A shrug of shoulder, a shift of attention, both were a clumsy attempt at distraction as Violet busied herself in moving aside some of the books and papers in front of Clementine, before she planted herself against the desk and eyed the younger girl. “You don't need to thank me. You know how much you mean to me. We're a team, right? I've always got your back.” She swallowed thickly, heat stroking its fingers over her cheeks a streaking them with red. “Besides, I should thank you. You're the one who actually stopped my dumb ass from getting shot.”

“About that,” Clementine lowered her head, her thick lashes sliding low. “It really scared me. Thinking that you could have...” She swallowed awkwardly and cleared her throat once. “I thought I was going to lose you. I've never seen you freeze up like that before. You sure you're OK?”

“I'm fine, Clem. I'm not... I'm not going anywhere.” Violet shifted closer, parting her knees to stand astride Clementines own, her fingertips brushing against the backs of Clementine's hands before lacing just their ring fingers and pinkies and stub together. “See?”

She hummed quietly in agreement, seemingly satisfied that Violet had no intention of retreating or abandoning their shared touch before she reached for the blonde's belt and hauled her closer until her knees bumped against the wide seat. The old worn out chair was more than large enough for the two young women to crowd themselves into and right now, all Clementine wanted was to crawl into her lovers arms and shut the world out for a while.

The hand on her belt tensed, fingers curling around splitting pleather stubbornly and tugging the blonde close. Violet stumbled up into the seat and over Clementine's lap, straddling her thighs. Violet’s knees shifted up, planting at either side of Clementine's hips as she sank into supple leather and warm lips as a rumble of voice purred against her own.

Gentle kisses swiftly turned heated, punctuated with stinging nips that sent Violet's voice keening. Squirming against the sharp little teeth that caught and tugged at her bottom lip, mouth working down and along her sharp jawline until Clementine had Violet gasping and whining in a shuddering mess against her. Lips roved higher, nose brushing the sensitive and fleshy earlobe as she nuzzled and roamed alabaster flesh and inhaled her scent, soft and feminine. Violet squirmed when gentle fingers slid around her neck, cradling the base of her skull in one palm as she curved and bared her throat to a stinging rain of soft kisses and sharp teeth.

Clementine's hands smoothed a path from face to shoulders, to narrow hips and firm ass. Unbuckling her belt, cupping and coaxing Violet to rise high on her knees and shuffle closer. Her smokey voice hitching when she felt Clementine's rounded nails slip up under her vests and shirts, scraping over the slight concave curve of her belly to her bottom most ribs where they seemed to stall out, thumb pads simply pressing into smooth skin until Clementine's confidence bolstered enough for her to sweep higher.

Wiggling her fingertips up under the worn, threadbare cotton of a her sports bra and easily gathering the entirety of the subtle curve of Violet's breasts into her palms. The older girl arched eagerly into the touch, shivering as thumbs rolled and flicked at her pebbled nipples hard enough for her to squeak high in her throat before they slid away. Warm palms spanning back down to tuck fingers beneath the tight belt, the backs of Clementine's knuckles stroking either side the shuddering belly, around the shallow dip of her bellybutton, as her thumbs flicked open the button of her jeans.

“Cl-Clem...” Violet's voice is little more than a whimper. “Fuck. What's gotten into you?” Violet braces her palms against the backrest of the chair, fingers curling and sinking deep into the furniture, bowing her neck and leaning her forehead against Clementine's as her kisses come quicker, sloppier and, at the first stroke of confident tongue, Violet sighs.

When Clementine spoke again, her heavy voice carried words that surprised her. “I love you, you know that right?”

Clementine had never said that to her before. Sure, she told Violet often that she cared, and she would tell her, 'me too' after Violet would tell her that she loved her. But she had never actually voluntarily said 'I love you' before and Violet had never pushed. Whatever affections Clementine had for her and however she chose to voice them had  always been enough for her. But now, hearing her actually say it, Violet felt her heart skip behind her ribs. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Clementine said firmly. Her lips parted; catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth, heavy lashes shuttering the golden eyes into gleaming slits. She damned near purred at the shuddering sigh that tumbled unrestrained from the blondes lips, her heart thrilling as fingers crawled under the denim and cotton, biting kisses and tugging lips punctuated by the staccato of Violet's stuttering breaths.

Her nails found and rasped through downy curls, her lips quirking as she swallowed Violet's next breathy gasp, her hips pulling up, helping to angle herself as Clementine's finger circled through her damp curls, found and tweaked at the firm and sensitive nub once, twice, until a sharp curse fell from Violet's lips.

"Oh, shit. Stop teasing!" Violet's hips bucked forward, trying to find the angle to sink the circling digits into her. She threw her head back and Clementine leaned in to nip along her sharp jaw before she leaned down to press her forehead back against Clementine's. "I swear if you don't just fu-"

"Clementine?"

Violet's eyes went wide at the unfamiliar male voice behind her, Clementine's own mirroring the expression before she cocked her head over Violet’s shoulder to find Gabriel standing in the doorway.

"Shit!" Violet fairly threw herself up and out of Clementine's lap, her trailing foot clipping the arm of the chair with her toe as she stumbled and fumbled with her zip and buckle. Her cheeks flamed and her eyes burned and she could feel the anger in Clementine’s voice, sharp as a blade, slice through the deathly silence as she snapped.

“What the hell do you want, Gabe?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Violet shifted her feet uncomfortably. The motion distracting her from the way her belly locked up tight or the way dread oozed through her blood, thick and viscous under her skin as she forced herself to meet and hold his eyes. His eyes darted away first, resuming his survey of their home, and Violet, her pride rankled at his dismissive nods, clenched her jaw before growling out a frustrated breath. She turned on her heel, yanked open the smaller side gate beside the main before she gave a quiet and low whistle to catch her canine companion’s attention and jerked her chin toward the openly dense forest beyond. “Let’s go, girl. I dunno about you, but I sure as hell need to get out of here for a bit.
> 
> The stub of a tail wriggled in excitement, sending the hefty animal's hindquarters into a swaying motion as she bounded eagerly through the gate, her nostrils flaring and catching the tantalizing scents of loam and prey, leaving Violet trailing behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been a long, long process to work on. I needed something a little more slow pace so to explain the situations and build on circumstances that I've been setting up since the beginning. Some people have had questions about certain parts so I hope this offers some clarity.
> 
> There's a call back to one of my one-shots that ties into this series. I hope my friend from discord (Razz) spots it and enjoys the nudge. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait.

**Chapter:5.**

The trees beyond the iron gates are veiled in the lightest of mists. It was still early but already shimmering particles of water vapor evaporated in the golden harvest sunlight. Shadowed monoliths erupting from the earth and jutting like the fingers of titans clawing sky bound. Their trunks scarred with the deep scores of foraging wildlife and the bite-marks of bladed weapons. New, raw gouges that bleed with sticky sap, blending with and reddening the somber browns and cracks that gnarl their winding paths through the moss kissed bark and the powdered paint of lichen. The forest floor is a million shades of browns, reds and golds. An artists pallet of fall hues. Mingled among the rich tones are subtle smatterings of grays and beige. Pebbles and rocks adding themselves to the mosaic hidden beneath the carpet of the fall.

This world, it looks and feels almost fake sometimes. The staged beauty little more than a simple backdrop to a set, a romanticized painting of peace and serenity splashed across a canvas, misleading the eye and dulling the senses to hide its dangers in plain sight. The wind that stirs around Violet, mischievous fingers that twirl and flick her ash blonde strands into her eyes, romp with barely a whisper through the dead and drying leaves. Softly shushing her before raising into something bright and playful, childlike laughter that scatters loosened leaves from branch and twig as it dances merrily away and along its path deeper into the wilds of Western Virginia.

It was at times like these, in the quiet where she could be alone, that Violet felt the last of her connections to the old world severe. The memories of her parents, her grandma, her old bedroom with its burnt orange walls and peeling floor tiles breaking free and drifting into nothingness. The comforting childhood toys and mismatched stickers that she had collected as a little girl of favorite cartoon characters and decorated her wooden bed frame with slowly disappearing from her thoughts.

Or, maybe, it was actually her who was gradually fading away.

When she hears the rhythmic click of claws against the paved courtyard and feels a heavy barrel of a body press itself against her knee, Violet tilts her chin upwards, dragging her glazed over eyes away from the deception and false serenity of the forest and slides them up to the name written in twisted iron. **_“Ericson Academy”_ **. Her lips curl up and away from her teeth in a sneer and she knows that, screwed into the brickwork like a damned badge of honor, is the mocking brass plaque embossed with the words Boarding School For Troubled Youth.

Troubled youth was a blanket term. A cure all. A single brush that society used in which to tar children and adolescents with difficulties, varying from an array of behavioral problems to lesser understood mental and emotional issues. Most of the kids here, like herself, had fallen into the latter category. Young people struggling with confusing thoughts and intruding emotions that neither they nor their parents were sure of what was the best path to take to intervene, or where to turn to find help when they saw signs their child was not quite adjusted. Most of the kids had experienced this kind of trouble, the kind that interfered with their daily functioning and the kind that they simply had not been properly equipped to handle. How could adults expect a child to coherently explain or communicate something that they themselves could barely grasp, and do so willingly to someone who they knew wouldn't understand or would punish them when they tried and failed.

So troubled children had to find their own escapes. Had to express themselves in ways that they knew would gain attention, for better or worse and simply hope that it would end. Trapped in a cycle of frustration and tantrums, with no idea how to process or trying and failing to escape situations that they barely understood. Reacting in confusing ways that resulted in behavioral quirks and habits that they knew would trigger a reaction. All the while, silently pleading that the next person to notice them, who heard their desperate cries for help, to be the one who finally understood them and could offer guidance and forgiveness. To finally be that one person who could be trusted, who could save them, teach them compassion and could show them how to love who they were instead of loathe and fear themselves.

Violet sighed heavily. Closing her eyes and pressing her forehead to the join of iron to brick as Rosie watched her with curious, tawny eyes, slightly dulled now with age and the onset of cataracts. No matter how hard Violet tried or how far she had come, the stigma was always there. Burned into her, much like the brand on Clementine’s bicep, only Violet’s was scorched so deeply that it permeated her very soul, and now she was unable to escape the prejudices that came with it. Scarred by assumptions that only she could see the reasons for. Violet sucked a sharp breath through her teeth, her fingers curling so tightly that her chewed nails bit painfully into the meat of her palms as her mind spiraled, caught up in the riptide of warring emotion. Swirling her anxieties up and crashing them over her head in dark, hissing voices, confusing and conflicting and dragging her back down away from the light. She was drowning again, her nerves jerking wildly with every thump of her heart, her skin too tight and buzzing as though insects swarmed and rippled beneath it and in her blood. And she would have continued to tumble merrily down her winding and destructive path, had Rosie not chosen that moment to whine and butt her broad head against her mistresses knee and almost sent her tumbling to the ground.

While the anger leached away, diluting the edge of hardened green back into the delicate watercolour of peridot instead, her eyes, in their translucency and softened colour reveals the scared child within. The girl who was taught first to hide from herself and then to fight for herself when no one else would, and always starved of the love and support that she had needed and craved. It was in these raw moments where she was alone that could feel the pain still buried within her and she felt herself wilt, consumed by this persona that she'd carved for herself so long ago to fit a world of indifference and cruelty.

Again, Rosie whined up at the blonde, the sound trailing off in a short and sharp bark that snapped Violet from her thoughts. Lowering herself onto a knee, Violet reached a hand out to scratch behind one of the cropped ears, smiling as the old dog leaned into her touch with her tongue lolling and a wide, doggy-grin stretching at her jowls. “Wanna go for a run, girl? It’s been a while, huh?” 

She pushed herself back onto her feet at Rosie’s answering barks, scrubbing her hand through her hair and wincing slightly as she worked her fingers into the knot of tension at the back of her skull. Kneading for a moment before checking her belt loop for her weapon. A flash of motion exiting the admin building caught in her peripheral and she instinctively shifted her focus. When she lifted her eyes, she felt her breath catch painfully in her throat and a chill seep into her gut as she found herself looking directly at Conrad. The man that she had last seen behind the steel of his pistol simply stood there, his arms folded, at the top of the steps surveying the courtyard with a skeptically raised brow and a critical eye. First scrutinizing an oblivious Omar as he washed out the stew pot, ready to make the morning meal and then traveling unhurried and unashamed over the courtyard until he found Violet’s gaze. Here he paused, held it, a slight curve settling on his lips. 

Violet shifted her feet uncomfortably. The motion distracting her from the way her belly locked up tight or the way dread oozed through her blood, thick and viscous under her skin as she forced herself to meet and hold his eyes. His eyes darted away first, resuming his survey of their home, and Violet, her pride rankled at his dismissive nods, clenched her jaw before growling out a frustrated breath. She turned on her heel, yanked open the smaller side gate beside the main before she gave a quiet and low whistle to catch her canine companion’s attention and jerked her chin toward the openly dense forest beyond. “Let’s go, girl. I dunno about you, but I sure as hell need to get out of here for a bit.

The stub of a tail wriggled in excitement, sending the hefty animal's hindquarters into a swaying motion as she bounded eagerly through the gate, her nostrils flaring and catching the tantalizing scents of loam and prey, leaving Violet trailing behind.

\----------------------

By the time Violet returned through the side entrance the sun was already peeking over the tops of skeletal trees. Her legs ached and her hair wind tousled, a few stray leaves and twigs had caught and found a home among the strands. At her side, Rosie fairly pranced like a year old pup, the tattered remains of a large hare clamped firmly between her teeth and her tongue lolling comically from the side of her jaws. The wide beast shoved her way through the milling bodies of pack and non-pack unperturbed until she reached the corner picnic bench. Here she lumbered clumsily beneath the benches where her master and other mistress had seated themselves, along with Louis and Javier and pinned her prize between massive paws as crushing jaws tore and gulped. The rest of the courtyard fairly hummed with low voices and hushed conversations, punctuated only by the occasional clink of spoons against chipped porcelain as the morning meal was slowly devoured.

Violet felt her own belly lurch, a low gurgle and wheeze indicated her sudden gnawing hunger as she jogged over to Omar and his pot. The teenaged chef glanced up at her approach, his eyes catching her reddened cheeks before falling down to eye the bundle of dark feathers in her fist that she thrust out to him. Without moving to take the offering he wrinkled his nose, a single brow siding into a high arch as he warily tracked a stray feather as it danced a downward spiral to the ground between his feet. “And, what’s this?”

Violet shrugged one shoulder awkwardly. “Took Rosie out for a run this morning. Happened upon a fresh killed hare with a bunch of crows already having at. Rosie decided she wanted the meat and kinda mowed down a couple of the things getting to it. Not a lot on them but figured meat is meat, and we’re already stretching ourselves kinda thin on that front.” She gave a single shake of her fist full of crow, and sighed happily as their chef slowly accepted the spontaneous haul, freeing her to grab one of the last bowls and help herself to breakfast. “You think you can work your magic on a few scraggly birds and a shit ton of veggies? Stretch out our reserves for a few days while we scrounge up more supplies?”

“I’d have preferred the hare-”

Violet, busying herself in scooping out some of the thin rice porridge with stewed fruits, hummed in agreement. “You and me both, but…” She paused and gestured over her shoulder toward the pit-bull happily crunching through the shredded remains of meat and bone. “I’m not about to risk my ass to wrestle away a few scraps from a sixty pound, walker mauling beast.”

Omar sighed, his fingers pinching at one of the crows in his hand, testing the density of flesh. “Well, at least she’s fed for today, at least. Maybe tomorrow too, looks like it was a big hare.”

“Yeah, it was.” She paused again, lips pursing in thought. “You sure the crows’ll be enough? I have a trip out to the borders scheduled later today, shouldn’t take me long. I can swing by the river or the rabbit traps on my way back.”

“These guys have more on them than you might think and we’re up to our eyeballs in lentils, carrots and potatoes. I’m pretty sure I can make something work, Vi.” Omar snorted a single chuckle, dark and smooth as his eyes crinkled and he shot her a conspiratorial look. “And if it comes to it, we could always add Goujon to the pot. She’s plenty big enough now.”

Violet paused, two boiled eggs in her hand, and fixed him with a dark look through narrowed eyes. “Don’t you dare! You know I love that bird.”

Omar laughed at her properly then. Quiet but good natured as he gestured to the eggs in her hand. “I kid. She’s a good layer and her newest brood of chickens she raised are turning out to follow in her productivity.” His eyes softened and his voice lowered. “I know you and Clem are both worrying about our reserves, but believe me when I say I got a handle of the meals. We should be ok for a few days on stricter rations.”

Violet glanced at the eggs she held in one hand then to the bowl of gruel in her other, before she fixed Omar with a probing look. There hadn’t been much left in the pot and there were still two empty bowls sitting beside the banked embers in the pit. “Who hasn’t eaten yet?”

Omar held her gaze for a few moments, almost squirming under her scrutiny before his eyes flicked away to inspect the ground as he dug his toe in and flipped a pebble loose, sending it tumbling into the still smoldering pit. “Aside from you, I think it’s just that Conrad guy. He took a bowl of eggs and potatoes in for their people in medical. And that guy Javier, his nephew hasn’t come down yet.” His lips twisted, clearly feeling conflicted about something he had seen. He sighed, blowing out his cheeks before mumbling quietly. “I did see Louis take a bowl up to the table but there was barely anything in it-”

“What about you?”

Omar blinked sharply and then shrugged his shoulder dismissively. “A chef only eats after he finishes serving, besides, I taste test… Vi?!” He stumbled back as he found the bowl that Violet had been serving to herself thrust into his hands. 

“Don’t feed me that bullshit, Omar. You gotta eat more than just ‘taste tests’.” She huffed, pocketing an extra egg -for Louis- and snagging one small, cold potato for herself. “Take a bowlful at the start and set it aside if you have to, I don’t care how you figure it out, just make sure you eat. And, Omar...”

The teen glanced from the bowl to the soft green of the blonde’s eyes, guilt squirming through his empty belly at the firm edge to her next words that were laced more with concern than true anger. “If our food stocks are running low, tell us. We can’t fix a problem we don’t know about, and hiding it will turn our current situation really bad, really fast. Just, talk to Aasim, see if he has any ideas on helping you ration what we do currently have. He’ll have records on how we pulled through in our leanest times squirreled away in that journal of his.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

With a nod, Violet turned on her heel. The frustration and unease that she had run off earlier already creeping back into her thoughts and prickling beneath her flesh as she moved across the courtyard, heading toward the picnic table that played host to Clementine and Louis, Javi and AJ, as well as Rosie who was still happily gnawing on her hare in the shade below. Sidestepping Gabe as he stomped across the courtyard, grumbling sleepily and digging the knuckles of his fingers into the corners of his eyes, Violet found herself pulling up sharply and halting mid-step. Barely catching herself from almost slamming into Conrad’s chest as he seemed to materialize out of nowhere behind her.

“Whoa, there.” His hand shot out and gripped the blonde by the elbow as she stumbled backwards. To anyone looking over it would simply appear a friendly gesture, a considerate anchoring to prevent the young woman from falling on her ass. But something about the actions sent anxiety singing along her synapses. They didn’t quite fit the tone of his expression, the warmth in his voice didn’t fit with the way that his fingers curled too tightly around her thin arm or the power of the pull he used to set her back on her feet as it almost sent her stumbling the other way. “Vi, wasn’t it? Nice set up you got here, plenty of space and room for everyone.”

She flinched uncomfortably against the sharp tips of his fingers digging painfully into her flesh -almost down to the bone it felt like- and would probably leave mottled, pebbled bruises in their wake. “Violet, actually. And clearly not enough space if we’re stepping all over each other.” Her voice was firm, words sharp and clipped. She gestured from his broad hand still squeezing her elbow to the lack of space between them. “Mind taking a step back there?”

Something darted across his face. A ripple of muscles shifting a shadow of an emotion that she couldn’t place. But she could see how it tightened his lips and left something cold and bottomless in his eyes. Violet unconsciously tensed and dropped her gaze away as Conrad smiled at her, too widely and showed way too many teeth for it to feel genuinely friendly. His laugh bounced around her skull, too loud and booming, like she had just told the most shitty joke in the world and he was pity laughing for the sake of her feelings. A moment later the braying laughter stopped and Violet’s ears rang with disorientating silence. Deafened by the sudden absence of noise, her eyes narrowed and carefully held steady, the unease rippling through her veins but never reaching her facial muscles as Conrad tilted his head down and leveled her with a steady stare. Then he hummed a single dry scoff, slid his foot behind him to carry himself back a step as he finally, _finally_ , let her elbow withdraw from his grasp. “You got me there, guess my old eyes ain’t as good as they used to be.”

The dishonesty woven into his words hang in the air, still and stagnant and tangling its thorns around her mind like a bramble vine. 

 _“Seemed to be fine enough while you were scanning the grounds this morning. Seem fine enough for you to line your gun up on me without a problem yesterday too.”_  

His lies slipped out so easily over his chapped lips. The words so smooth that either he truly believed them to be truthful himself or he believed her to be young and naive enough to eagerly swallow any story that he chose to feed her. And maybe, once upon a time, she had been that naive, that eager to believe and take anothers words at face value. She had been with her parents, eager to believe that they loved her and her shitty home life would improve. That her dad would quit drinking and yelling or her mom would find the time to nurture a bond with her daughter. There had been a time where she had trusted the word of who she thought was a friend, even as he tore out her heart and ground it under his heel as he told her that her friend and her girlfriend were gone, trusted the crocodile tears and lies her left tumbling around her ears. 

But that had been a long time ago and she had since taken every bitter lesson to heart. Taking the morals of loss and grief, anger and betrayal and used them to better arm herself. For a fraction of a second Violet felt a scowl play upon her face. Her lips thinning and forehead puckering between tightened eyes, until her conscious mind asserts control again and reshapes the scowl into nonchalance. Barely shifting her line of sight over his shoulder, Violet focuses on Clementine, grounding herself in the way the brunette’s lips move with soundless words as she converses with Javi, some of the tension between them lost from the days prior. And when her fall-gold eyes wander and latch onto Violet’s, a neat brow raising in unspoken question, the blonde sees an escape. Still refusing to fully meet Conrad’s eyes, she shifts her vision just enough to give the impression of eye contact while still holding Clementine centered in her sights as she forces neutrality into her words to soften the bite of her unease and distrust. “Guess so.”

Stepping around the man and walking away, Violet breathes an almost inaudible sigh of relief. Her usual casual, sauntering gait feels off-balanced, almost as though she were a child playing dress up in her mother’s heels and having to consciously focus on each step to stop herself stumbling. Her mind is a hive of activity, buzzing and loud and confusing as she tries to piece together what just happened, and all the while, her heart thrums on hummingbird wings behind the cage of ribs and her gaze is locked on the picnic table and the safety it boasts. She barely even notices her arrival until she feels herself stepping over the bench and sandwiching herself between Louis and Clementine, enveloped by a bubble of familiar voices and the gentle fingers that skim along her elbow.

“You were gone when I woke up this morning.” One corner of Clementine’s lips lifts up into a small smile, the dimple in her cheek barely crinkling into existence. “Everything ok?”   

Buying herself an extra few moments to settle her turbulent thoughts, the blonde leaned in, pressing a flash of a kiss against the messy curls that tumbled playfully against the teens temple. “Perimeter check,” She leaned back and busied herself in laying out her meal in front of her, eyes trained on her own hands before quietly adding. “And Rosie hadn’t been out for a while. So I took her for breakfast apparently.”

Clementine gave a single huff of what sounded like frustration, before glancing over to AJ who was talking animatedly with Javier. His chewed up food flashing between his teeth as he spoke animatedly, dark eyes dancing with childish delight as Javier regaled him with stories of how he and a younger teen-aged Clementine had met in Richmond so many years ago. Confident that the boy’s focus was solely on their breakfast guest, Clementine shifted herself closer to her quiet lover and carefully curled the fingers of her right hand around the fingers of Violet’s left and gently squeezed. 

“That’s not what I meant.” She tilted her head, trying to catch the subtle green of Violet’s eyes that she loved so much and felt her chest tighten in dismay as the blonde mirrored the movement.  Pale hair sliding to shield her face and purposely avoid the warm golden brown. Clementine licks her lips, an unconscious motion to steady her nerves. “Last night. After what happened in the office, after Gabe. You wouldn’t let me touch you… are you ok?”  

Even now, she can see the way Violet’s shoulder’s tense beneath the layers of torn and frayed shirts and vest. She can feel the way slender fingers twitch under her touch, undecided between pulling away and gripping tighter. Carefully, Clementine stroked her thumb over the backs of Violet’s knuckles. Slow, sweeping motions that traced delicate bones and shifting muscles, warmth and comfort seeping through soft and trembling skin. “Please don’t shut me out, Vi.”

Face still curtained, Violet slid her gaze toward the gentle touch before lifting to catch Clementine’s eyes. Her breath snagged in her throat with a tiny gasp, her turbulent thoughts slowly dissolved in the golden light that lay under the rich hazel and emanated outwards. There had always been a kindness in Clementine’s smile, and a gentleness in her eyes. It was the smile of one who could laugh with complete ease and her eyes, limpid pools that could see the person under the defensive behavior. Violet had always found comfort in the way that Clementine could see through her defenses. Warm rays of compassion cutting through and chasing away the dark and shadowy thoughts that threatened to swallow who she was entirely, and leaving her, the real _Violet_ , exposed and vulnerable and loved.

Slowly the tenseness in her shoulders melted away and she twisted her hand, still beneath Clementine’s, around to thread her long fingers between her partner’s. Lifting her chin so that her pale hair settled against her skin rather than hanging limp and lank around her face, Violet smiled. A little barely there smile with a twist to it, like the smile of a child who is determined not to cry.

Clementine leaned in and brushed her own lips carefully behind Violet’s ear, breathing soft words of comfort into her hair. “Talk about it later?”

Violet nodded and closed her eyes, sighing softly through her nose, a hint of her distinctive purr vibrating in her throat. “Yeah. Just a bit much right now.”

“You guys are so gross.”

Violet pulled back sharply as Clementine shifted around in her seat to playfully glower at AJ who was shaking his head at the two, his arms folded over his chest. “Are we now?”

The boy nodded his head vigorously. “Yeah! Javi, was telling me all these cool stories of how you taught him and Gabe to fight the monsters better, and about how you made him cover himself in guts. Swinging across a big gap, like, bigger than the bridge gap, on a helicopter propeller and all that cool stuff.” He frowned as he pointed an accusing finger at both Clementine and Violet. “And then you two are just sitting there, being all kissy and doing gross love stuff, just when I was gonna tell him all about when Violet taught me how to fish with a spear and how she wasn’t a baby like he was when we made her wear monster guts that one time. And about when you wore James’s skin mask and went in a whole barn full of monsters. How am I supposed to make you guys sound cool when you’re being gross?”

From the other side of Violet, Louis laughs. Loud and uproariously. It’s muffled slightly behind his hand but it’s pure and rich and a sound that she hasn’t heard in years. When Louis laughs, truly laughs, it’s not just with his voice, it's in his eyes. It’s in the way his whole face changes into a vision of relaxed joy and unrestrained mirth. Yet it’s not only in his face either. His laughter comes from within, it’s his soul, it was just the way he had always been. People like him just have this atmosphere about them, like all that humor bubbling around inside him just has to be shared. To take the tension and seriousness of a situation and flip it on its head.

By the time his laughter has dissolved into gasping breaths and soft sniggering, his hands are moving and his eyes are alive again with knavish delight and kinship. _‘AJ slayed you there, Vi. Seems those crows weren’t the only murder you’ve been involved in today.’_

The blonde leaned over closer to Louis and flicked his forehead gently. Her other hand moved to the bowl that sat empty in front of him and dropped two of the three eggs that she had taken noisily inside. “And there’ll be a third if you keep pulling dumbass shit.” A small, affectionate curve toyed at the corners of her lips as Louis guiltily lowered his eyes and pulled the offering toward himself. Sighing softly, Violet reached for one of the dreads that hung into his eyes. Tugging gently on it until the guy, more her brother than friend, peered up at her through his dark lashes. “If you're gonna assign yourself starvation rations... don't do it in front of the chef. Rookie mistake, numb-nuts.”

The corners of Louis’s mouth lift into a small smile, as he brings his clasped fist to his chest and rotates it slowly in a clockwise motion.

From the other side of the picnic table, Javier watches the way Louis's hands move curiously. He had noticed it before, in the forest when he had first met Violet and Louis, that the gestures they made to each other seemed to snag in his mind with a vague sense of familiarity. Like he was on the brink of understanding what the motions meant for the briefest of moments before they changed into something completely alien. Gnawing idly on his bottom lip as he mulled his thoughts over, shuffling and rearranging the words in his mind until he cleared his throat with an awkward cough.

“Hey, so... I've been watching you guys,” He pauses mid-sentence, pinned under the sharp eyes that encircled him. Clementine’s, the flashing amber of a hunting tigress. Violet’s, a glacial green of the frozen tundra. And Louis’, the wide, silken chocolate like those of a kicked puppy. “Oh, oh no. I meant, I’ve noticed the talking that you do with your hands. With Louis. It almost looks like you’re signing but it doesn't feel quite right for American sign language.”

“That’s because it’s not.” Violet retorted. She breaks open the solid of her own boiled egg and fishes out the yolk. This she passed over to AJ, a ritual that they had established over the years -he loved the yellow centers and she despised them- before filling her mouth with the white and chews slowly. “Not really. We mostly just learned the alphabet and a few simple words, the rest is basically charades.”

“So, this is recent?” Javi asked gently, turning his gaze between the young blonde and the youth with dreads. “Louis isn't partially deaf?”

Violet's eyes dart to Louis, catching the way that he stiffened in his seat and is careful to avoid meeting anyone’s eyes. She feels her heart plummet as the bright grin from moments ago fades into solemn neutrality, and the humorous light that danced through his eyes is gone. Snuffed out like the smoking wisps of an extinguished candle and swallowed by the encroaching darkness of midnight eyes. 

Slowly Louis shakes his head and stares into his hands weightlessly, and Violet can see the tenseness that draws his shoulders high as his mind retreats from the here and now and becomes lost in the cold blackness. It had been years since that night, years since he had hauled himself from the darkness's cruel embrace, yet he can still see the rust of his own blood crusting on his dark skin. Seeping into the cracks and creases that map across his artistic hands.

Violet’s chest locks tight when she sees the pain glaze over and dulls his eyes, his lips tightening as his mind hauls him back into the wild rapids beyond her reach. In moments he was back in that cell. Alone. Salt stinging his eyes and the metallic tang of blood that he could no longer taste filling his mouth. Here he is trapped, beyond hers or anyone else’s reach, watching those torturous memories happen to himself. His brain, for some morbid reason, is unwilling or unable to let the images go. And the more he tries to suppress the thoughts the more they would play. 

Gone was the last thirty minutes of enjoying the companionship and camaraderie with his friends. Violet’s gentle teasing, and finding himself as spellbound and enamored by Javier’s stories as AJ. Gone was the return of his laughter. Replaced by the images and the sensation of hands holding him still and prying open his jaw. The bite and pressure of pliers as they clamped onto the muscle housed behind his teeth, squirming and rolling with his muffled begging and garbled pleadings for mercy. Then came the burning strain from deep in his throat as they dragged his tongue out over his lips. He could still see the flash of a blade as it rose high, glowing white and hot and feel the way that his sweat mingled with his tears when it came down. All had slipped from his mind like the sand in an hourglass. And now Louis was suffering for it all, lost and abandoned to the memories he could never truly voice. Trapped watching the events unfold like a horror movie left to play for no one but himself, over and over, an eternal loop. 

“Jesus. I didn't mean to…” Javi trails off weakly. His widened eyes begging forgiveness as they watch helplessly as Louis, the only one of them who despite everything, had still clung to his charming and friendly disposition, disconnected and retreated inside himself. “What the hell happened?”

A beat of silence oozes thick and cloying discomfort between the group. Violet’s fingers crept over to curl around the edge of his familiar jacket. The touch offered no immediate comfort to him in this moment, but she wanted it there for when the damaged soul of Louis chose to reemerge from whatever shadowy recess it had fled to. The moments of silence stretched on until, finally, she hears Clementine clear her throat on her other side. The sharp sound slicing cleanly through the deafening absence of noise like a knife, and redirects Javier’s focus away from the traumatized male and onto herself. 

“We were attacked some years back, by a group of raiders who knew where to find us. Someone I once knew, once trusted, manipulated and intimidated the former leader here into handing his people over.” 

Violet can feel Clementine’s gaze shift over to herself. Can feel the eyes full of wordless apologies on her as she presses the slender fingers of her free hand into the ripped denim that clings to her thigh like a second skin, and tries to keep the image of Minerva, bloodied and crazed, trying to kill them all from her thoughts. 

She risks a cautious glance when she hears Clementine’s voice return, steady but full of quiet remorse. The eyes of her lover are fixed ahead, darker than the usual warm honeyed brown and alive with a tempest of storming emotions. Sadness, regret and fury all warring to dominate the teen's flashing tiger eyes. “Those they took they destroyed and rebuilt into soldiers, Damaged people forced to fight in a trumped up war that was never theirs. Then they came back a year later with the intention to either take or kill the rest of us.” She follows as Clementine’s gaze darted over her to observe Louis for a moment and she sees the regret in them that claims victory of the swirling emotions.“I was too soft with Lilly, and Louis paid for my mistake.”

“That’s why I couldn’t just let you come here, Javi. It was never that I couldn’t trust you.” 

There’s a softness and maturity in Clementine’s words that startles Javi as she meets his gaze. It’s so far removed from the Clementine he had once known, the Clementine that had needed protection as much as she had refused to accept it. Now she is grown and no longer striking out on her own lonely path and her heart is home to more than the orphaned child in her charge. This Clementine is older and wiser, the flames that leap and twirl in her eyes are tempered and controlled, no longer the wild fires and kerosene from their first meeting.

“It’s because I don’t trust myself to make the smart choices when it comes to people I once knew.” She lowered her eyes. “Lilly took so much from us that night. Destroyed our gates and flooded our home with walkers. She killed and stole our people. She took Louis's tongue and broke him in a matter of hours. I couldn’t let myself put my friends, my family in that position again.” Her eyes lift and they are clouded, a silent war dulling their shine. “Not for you, not for anyone. They’re all I have and I’ll give my dying breath to defend them.” 

Javi watches Clementine’s face carefully. Hers is one that he is the most familiar with, the same exotic eyes that shine with determination, The same firmness in the way that she sets her lips in determination. The rest of the expression she wears is torn with conviction and uncertainty, but still she takes a breath and gathers her strength and that speaks volumes of her courage.

He glances next to AJ. The soft childish appearance is worn a little awkwardly on a child that is swiftly maturing. Wide, soft eyes that were filled with innocent delight when their meal began have cooled and chilled, hardened in the way he used to see in his brothers eyes. Quietly observing everything, calculating and strategizing and knowing exactly what was expected of him should he be required to act and defend his home and people.

Javi shifts his focus to Louis now, meeting the young man’s gaze as he slowly lifted his chin. The last dregs of the traumatic recollection sloughing from his thoughts and leaving a steely but vulnerable light in his eyes. And despite how unnatural it looks upon his gentle features, there is a genuine quality to the determination he wears like a mask. Louis might not be the most outwardly threatening in his group, but Javi has no difficulty believing the youth is more than capable of handling conflict in his own way. 

And finally he moves to Violet. The blonde was a hard one to place. Her body language and attitude were hard to read, closed off and prickly, like she had wrapped herself in brambles. And yet, watching her with Louis and the blunt way that she teased him or the gentleness in her eyes as she allowed AJ to scold both her and Clementine for their soft affection, it was clear that it wasn’t done out of malice, rather an exaggerated sense of self preservation. Her grey-green eyes, smoky clouds that glinted like the aftermath of a lightning strike and never quite fully made contact with anyone, spoke of years of hidden grief.

“Jesus, Clem… I-” Javi’s breathy words hang in the air. Listening to Clementine’s explanation and seeing the aftermath of their last encounter with outsiders coming into their home reflected in the behavior of both Louis and Violet had sent cold tendrils of sorrow to twist around his heart. He can understand it, of course he can. The outrage and the protectiveness that Clementine felt for her group, he had felt the same when he had learned of the identities of the men who had killed Marianna. Nothing she had done, hiding her home from them, concealing her disability and the threats of leaving them to their fate in the wilds in order to protect her people was beyond his understanding. It wasn’t out of spite or cruelty, but out of necessity. “You kids, you’ve had it rough.”

His next words are quiet and gentle and full of understanding. And even if deep down he hates himself for even considering a baser form of Conrad’s idea, he can see the merits of them merging their groups, at least for a little while. Maybe, but only if Clementine were to invite them to stay. “And I can’t fault you for wanting to protect your people, Clem. But we can help you, if you let us. Boost your numbers and make you less of a target.”

When Clementine speaks again Javier is stunned. “We have numbers, Javi.”

His brows furrowed and his eyes darted around the courtyard, silently tallying the numbers that sat in clusters around the picnic tables. He raises a skeptical brow as he fixes the amputee with a gentle but disbelieving look. “I’ll admit, you kids are tough as nails, but even with all bodies included there’s what, fifteen.”

“Eighty.”

Whipping his head to the blonde, Javi blinks hard, once, twice before his voice croaks. “Run that by me once more.”

Violet sighs and focuses her attention on the cold potato in her hands. But Javier can see there’s somewhat of a smug grin on playing on her lips and a flicker of amusement in her cast down eyes as she repeats. “Not including you assholes, there’s around eighty of us.”

Brows furrowing and eyes flicking to Clementine as though searching for conformation that Violet was fucking with him, the former baseball star sweeps a guiding hand around the courtyard. “Not to call bullshit, but…”

Smirk deepening, Violet busies herself in peeling back the thin skin on the potato. When she speaks again it muffled behind a mouthful of starch and soft root vegetable flesh. “We’re part of a multi-community network. Including us, there’s five scattered groups, all within twenty miles of each other. To outsiders, it’s far enough away for each to appear completely separate but close enough that we can reach each other fast and fill ranks if needed.” She swallows and carefully picks at the potato skin again. For several long moments Violet deliberates her next words carefully before she raises her green eyes and notices Javi’s soft but expectant expression fixed solely on her. She shifts her gaze awkwardly, her slightly warmed cheeks puffing with a heavy breath. “We’re the smallest group with nine-”

Clementine folds her arms, mumbling darkly at her blonde lover and making no effort to even cover her disdain. Violet simply waves off the brunette’s grumbling protests. “If his meals come from our reserves then, like it or not, he is one of our own.”

“Fine, if you insist.”

Violet slid a suspicious eye over to Javi and watched the way the man’s tensed jaw worked. He looked as though he were contemplating the last exchange between Clementine and herself words seriously, either still dealing with the sudden revelation of their minor disagreement or struggling with acceptance that this small group was part of a much larger community. Violet felt her eyes narrow when his lips parted though the words he spoke surprised her.

“Smart set up. Big communities crammed together are tempting targets.” From what he says next, Violet can tell that he has been thinking deeply, considering what she said carefully and was already working out and understanding their strategy of survival. “You guys figured out there is safety in smaller groups working together. Richmond was huge, well stocked and could comfortably support well over a hundred people. And that’s what made it such a prize for the group that hit us. A place like this, small and secluded, it’s not worth the effort as more than a safe-house.” 

He paused and sucked a breath through his teeth, as he eyed the blonde carefully. “When we met, I remember you being very aware of a herd of walkers coming through, and these woods aren’t exactly swarming with them, I don’t think I’ve even heard one since arriving here. So how did you know where they were?”

Violet took her own sharp intake of breath and narrowed her eyes into a soft glare that lacked any real heat. She leaned in, weaving her fingers together under her chin and pitched her voice low, the words that she drawled carrying with them more than a hint of pride. “Have you heard of Whisperers?”

\------------------------------

It’s never simply the event that defines what will happen after, but the attitudes and manner of those involved. You can meet the challenges head on with humility, grace and a brave soul... or you can do precisely the opposite.

Gabe had been watching Clementine’s interactions from behind guarded eyes, his face purposely angled under the pretense of being engrossed in his breakfast. It didn't escape his notice, the way that Clementine had shifted her attention away from the conversation between the boy and Javi, nor the way that her smile had morphed effortlessly from the rekindling embers of warmth that she had offered to his uncle and into one of pure emotion for the blonde at her side.

He wanted desperately to go over to Clementine's table. To apologize for his sudden interruption of hers and Violet's tryst the night before. He wanted to, at the very least, try to rekindle the friendship they'd once had, to try and strike up a companionship with those important to the first girl he had felt affections for outside of his sister. But all he could see, scorched in his minds eye, was the irritated glare that burned into him around the arch of Violet's spine and all he could hear was the furious snap to her words as they drowned out the needy whine in the blondes voice.

The young man barely even glances up as Conrad forces his wider body uncomfortably onto the narrow bench across the picnic table to him. “Ain't much in the way of variety up there,” He grumbles, dipping his spoon into the now cold mush, pausing it’s path to his mouth as he eyes the younger Garcia with a slight frown and careful gaze. "What's eatin' ya kid? Surprised to see you ain't sitting with Javi, chatting it up with Clem and her crew."

Gabe lowers his head, miserably pushing his porridge around, swirling the purple red of stewed berries into the limp gray. "She's kinda mad at me."

Conrad raised a brow, his second spoonful stopping halfway to his mouth. "Oh?"

Gabe nods slowly and in silence. The guilt sits not on his chest but inside his brain. His insides dying in the toxicity of his thoughts as he tries to orientate his world again. What he had done, he could still undo, he could make amends if only his thoughts would stop trying to convince him otherwise.

"You gonna make me guess?"

"I uh, interrupted when she and Violet were busy."

Conrad snorts, a calculating light seeping into his dark eyes as he watches the youth’s cheeks flush with the admittance. 

"Well, that explains why little Miss Sunshine's been all piss and vinegar this morning.”

The guilt surges back into Gabriel’s mind with a roar. He hadn’t meant to upset Clementine, he hadn’t meant to upset Violet, and the fact that he has bothers him more than he thought it would. Silently Gabe wallows in self-pity and miserable regret, his attention turned so deeply inwards that he misses the way that Conrad’s lips stretch into an empty smile. Javier warned _him_ against fucking things up, but he hadn’t said anything about using a mouth piece for his plans. “Y’know, I think blondie feels a little threatened, what with you here.”

“Really?” Gabe flinches as he sees Conrad’s hand reach across the table for him. He wants to move away but he feels trapped. Pinned between his own internal turmoil and the measured gaze watching him. He screws his eyes shut and takes a steadying breath, avoiding the expectant expression that paints Conrad’s face. But when he opens them again and sheepishly meets Conrad’s eyes he finds the kind of gentle concern in them that reminded him of his grandfather. He focuses so intently on the false comfort that he misses entirely the cool intelligence that illuminates the coal dark irises. 

Carefully, Conrad lays his hand lightly on Gabe’s shoulder, and instead of flinching away he was soothed by it. Leaving his hand there and speaking his next words with such a soft voice, the sly man watches as his next words catch and snare the young man's mind. “You saw the way she stepped between the two of you outside the gates. The way Clem got so mad at you, just for being happy to see her again. That girl don’t like you being here and you watch, she’ll keep finding reasons to keep you away from Clementine.”

Glancing up he frowns, misreading the fake smiles and subtle lies that spill over the older mans lips. His carefully manipulated words are comforting, convincing and Gabe finds himself desperately wanting to believe them. To believe anything that gave him permission to deny the truth, deny the possibility that he had fucked up and push the blame onto someone else. Conrad’s words gave him that comfort, that permission.The corrupted story oozes through Gabriel’s thoughts like venom. It takes a hold of his brain, mis-wiring all the synapses until he can no longer think, and when he tries to force it the result is nothing but scrambled logic.  

So he took it. And, as he glances back over to the table hosted by Clementine and her blonde lover, he finds himself blaming _her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch it? Goujon from "Broody" is still with them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The path at Violet’s feet fades as it leads her deeper into the dense company of trees and brush. The thorns and mulching litter encroaching the narrow strip of naked earth ominously flanked by the giant twists of root and fern. The forest, always so alive with prey and game in the warmer springs and humid summers, chills her now as they crawl deeper into the fall. The baring branches spike high into the sky, the seasonal signs of life lessening feels more and more foreboding with each passing day. Despite the years that she had spent here, this place had always felt a little foreign as it straddles the cusp of the changing seasons. She never knew for certain what lay beyond in the dark forest, all she knew was that while the journey was familiar and thrilling, apprehension and anticipation both were her companions, keeping her thoughts clear and her wits sharp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so overdue... I am so sorry.
> 
> It had so much going on in it originally that the word count pushed up into the region of over 12,000 words, so it has been cut with a portion of it heading over to chapter 7. This also means that you may be getting an extra chapter. 
> 
> I decided to throw in a curve-ball, taking liberties of the only canon events are what you see on screen during your play through. With that in mind I hope you all still find this chapter enjoyable. And I look forward to any comments you might wish to share.

**Chapter:6.**

The path at Violet’s feet fades as it leads her deeper into the dense company of trees and brush. The thorns and mulching litter encroaching the narrow strip of naked earth ominously flanked by the giant twists of root and fern. The forest, always so alive with prey and game in the warmer springs and humid summers, chills her now as they crawl deeper into the fall. The baring branches spike high into the sky, the seasonal signs of life lessening feels more and more foreboding with each passing day. Despite the years that she had spent here, this place had always felt a little foreign as it straddles the cusp of the changing seasons. She never knew for certain what lay beyond in the dark forest, all she knew was that while the journey was familiar and thrilling, apprehension and anticipation both were her companions, keeping her thoughts clear and her wits sharp. 

Violet shivers slightly against the chill, the frosts are coming early this year. She rolls the crisp breeze over her tongue and fills her lungs with it, taking a moment to key her ears into the barely there sounds and her nose to the aroma of damp earth rising. She listens so very carefully to every sound and tunes herself into every instinct that thrums through her, instincts that have kept her alive so far. Whenever she moved, there is a practiced silence that seems to follow her. Always present, never completely abandoning her, instead it simply fades into the ambient noises of the background and awaits its return. 

Behind her she can hear the leaves scud over the ground and under Gabe's feet, embarking on short flights into the air as he noisily scuffs his boots with every sulking step he takes. His mood is sour and his face wears his irritation openly. He had been in a pissy mood ever since the decision had been handed to him by his uncle that he would be best suited to fill the role of scout and communications ambassador for his group, unfortunately now pairing him with the blonde for the duration of their stay. And if Violet were to be perfectly honest, she was far from thrilled being teamed with him herself, but she trusted Clementine and her judgement when she had agreed with Javi’s assessment. And she took comfort in the way her lover had gently taken her aside to soothe her jangling nerves with assurances that the youth knew how to handle himself and that it was not expected of her to become fast friends with him. So she had squashed down her apprehension and frustrations and schooled her anxiety to hide beneath her confident facade and prepared to complete her tasks with as much civility as she could manage.

All she had needed to do was to escort him out and learn their boundary lines. Leave their markers that would alert their neighboring communities to their request for aid and, despite Omar’s assurances that he could manage, she was determined to bring home more meat for the pot for their suddenly doubled numbers. 

Simple. 

Or it would be if Gabe would stop his huffing and sulking like a child for five fucking minutes and actually _listen_ to her and her warnings to keep quiet. His scuffs and purposely heavy tread back from the boundaries had alerted every last rabbit and squirrel to their presence and sent them running for their bolt holes. His dramatic huffs and sighs and grumblings had sent every last bird winging from the branches and streaking across the sky in a flurry of feathers and warning calls. Violet closed her eyes and set her jaw against a flare in her temper, a knee jerk response to a particularly obnoxious sigh that sliced through her last nerve when a new and more distinctly threatening sound rolled in around them and sent them both pressing up against bark and fern and quieting in moments.

Beyond them, somewhere not yet visible, a low gurgling moan chases the coiling winds. The sharp crack of a twig breaking in the distance, echoing as a gunshot in the silence, when it reaches them it stills their movements entirely. They press themselves lower to the still damp dirt, twig and bramble poking at them, snagging in their clothes and hair as leaf and fern tenderly stroke and brush tickling touches to their skin. Gabe tilts his head around Violet’s slender build, neck craning as his dark eyes scan the dense foliage. His sight lands on the creature first. His voice carefully quiet and low, despite the bite to his tone, as he alerts his companion rather unnecessarily.

"Walker."

Violet tilts her chin over her shoulder, glancing backwards at her reluctant companion. Her eyes are sharp as she catches Gabe's own hardened gaze, his lips still parted from delivering his hissed warning. She rolls her eyes and shifts her attention away from his haughty expression, instead following his outstretched finger that directed her focus -again, an entirely unnecessary action- toward the lone creature, silhouetted against the treeline and dappled both by darkness and washed out afternoon sunlight.

The walker looked old, decrepit, its ragged flesh hanging from sun bleached bones in a grotesque mimicry of the torn fabrics of ruined clothing donning its twisted frame. Braiding the strips together in a macabre pattern of skin and rags. It wasn't moving, it couldn’t, not really. Its muscles had withered and degraded with years of decay and rot, as well as the telltale marks of ravenous teeth. Loops of dried, leathery intestine tangle and twine like serpents around wood. Intentionally anchoring it to the spindly sapling where it was barely standing, swaying with the young evergreen in the breeze with an occasional gurgle drifting through its slack hung maw. The main muscle in it's jaw, the outer masseter if Violet recalled her biology lessons correctly -as well as the snorts and giggles of prepubescent teens as they had labeled the ‘musculature of mastication diagram- was all but gone on the left side. Bitten out by another walker, perhaps a grim reminder of its death mark, though it was hard to tell for certain with all of the decay. 

Violet swallowed hard against the tight fist of cold recognition that squeezed her throat as she scanned the rest of the undead corpse. Frantic to ignore the thinning red hair that hung in limp shreds from one side of the torn scalp, careful to avoid acknowledging the familiarity of the ragged green parka and the scar that cut through the brow. Instead she studied the way the belly had been neatly split to allow the innards to spill free, the patches of chewed meat and muscle that peeked through the blood crusted grey shirt that still clung to her - _its_ \- torso. Taking careful notice of the mangled left hand barely connected by frayed sinew and reedy flesh instead of allowing herself to see _her_.

"It's fine, just ignore it.” She whispered back, shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet and eager to move on from the memory of a past that she had already spent too long grieving for in the years prior. “It's not like she- it'll follow us with the guts all twisted up like that.” Adjusting the fall of her steps, she slid her feet through the carpet of dampened leaf litter, muffling the sound of her slow and careful movements. “Just don't make any sudden movements or sounds and we'll be fine." 

Gabe watches Violet move on through hardened eyes, irritation simmering in his blood. He didn't share or much care for her casual and dismissive attitude toward what he saw as a threat. His own survivor's senses clamor in frustration at her disregard of his concerns in a low hum that buzzed angrily through his mind, a plague of locusts feasting on his sense of rationality.

With his expression drawn tight and his brow creasing down into a frown, he resigns himself to follow her slowly. His gaze, dark and infuriated, bore against the slow bounce of the bow slung across Violet's back, unwavering and unabashedly outraged. Gabe slid his eyes away from his companion's hunched form as she moved smoothly and sure-footed through the thick brush, widening the distance between them. She hadn't even bothered to grace him with a second glance, or acknowledged his hesitancy to move on. And she certainly paid him no mind as he moves his furious gaze away from her and over to the twisted shape of nightmares and death still tangled by a snare of internal organs made external.

They should have killed it. He would have. It was the smart thing to do. Every single one of his deep rooted survival instincts, the ones that Clementine had planted in him years ago, demanded it of him. To leave a walker, even one so ensnared and tangled as this one, put them at risk of a potential surprise attack. Frustration gnaws ravenously at his insides and his ego claws at his thoughts, twisting and turning; suffocating his rationality as he slowly, reluctantly, forces his feet to follow Violet through the undergrowth instead. It had been there a while now, gently sizzling in the pit of his stomach, a little fire seed of anger. He didn't want it there, he doesn't even fully understand why it is there, smoking within him. But inside him it is and no amount of swallowing seems to quell the touch of its scorching fingers along the back of his throat with every exhale of breath.

Logically he knows he had no reason not to trust his companion, she has yet to do anything that had wronged or endangered him. But Violet's lofty and dismissive attitude coupled with her brusque personality was really starting to stick in his craw. Every word she spoke to him carries with it a snap of temper or the buzz of irritation, imagined or not, that he felt to be completely unfair and only serves to poke that smouldering seed deeper. Every openly harsh expression she sent him or instruction she gave that he disagreed with stokes it, encourages it to smoke and spit and throw wispy roots of indignation and frustration into his mind. Wisps that curl around and frame the memories of every slight she had afforded him and the words that Conrad had imparted at breakfast, anchoring and warping it in his mind's eye.

_“That girl don’t like you being here and you watch, she’ll keep finding reasons to keep you away from Clementine.”_

They had been kids when they'd met, he and Clementine. Barely even into their teenage years. He had been vulnerable and terrified, having just lost his sister. Her forehead erupting in a wide spray of blood and brains and gore that splattered against his cheek. Her body crumpling horrifically, like a discarded marionette puppet whose strings had just been cut. He had been so overwhelmed, so caught up in a storm of bullets, furious survivors and his sister's blood that nothing made sense anymore. And from amid the darkness and the horrific truth that the living were to be feared as much as the ravenous dead, Clementine had appeared. A child so fierce and strong, fighting and raging against a cruel world that was so determined to consume and destroy anything and everything that dared to be vulnerable and gentle within it. She had been glorious in her defiance, her gun raised and eyes blazing, a whirlwind of fury unleashed in his memory. And she had saved them, saved _him_.

And he had been instantly besotted.

It had been a simple crush, his first, but nothing more. How could it have been? They had known each other barely a week, during one of the worst of his life. She had been something that made sense to his grieving and addled teenage mind at the time. Some sort of stability in a sea of none for him to cling to, a life raft that stopped him from drowning in his despair and sorrow. He had known, even then, that it would never had lasted. Clementine's eyes had never been on him, instead they had been firmly fixed on righting the wrongs done to her, by his own father no less, and correcting the slights that had left her alone and furious. Determined to reunite herself to the toddler, more her son than ward, torn from her arms and not on building a relationship with a sniveling, snot nosed brat who had barely known how to keep his own ass alive. She didn't need that responsibility on her shoulders too, hadn't needed him dragging her down or putting her life at risk.

And he knew it now, in the same way as he had known then, that his behavior was ridiculous and contemptible. But his ego and pride, traits inherited from his father, continued to conflict with his logical thoughts. His protective instincts, ones that had been first instilled into him at the birth of his sister, had quickly switched over to the thirteen year old Clementine, and they had only surged stronger than ever as he had spotted Clementine’s maimed form moving across the courtyard to stand with her, at Violet's side. He had seen the way she had taken the blonde's hand, attempted to move her back behind her. To protect her from them. The warming light that gleamed when she looked upon the other girl was painfully absent when she had turned those same honey brown eyes to him and Javi. His disappointment and feelings of loss of the girl he had once known had been real. It had caught painfully in his throat and burned a cold fire behind his ribs, knowing that this Clementine was so very different to the one he had befriended. And then, when he had seen them together, when he heard Clementine’s voice, somehow both soft and possessive at once, telling Violet that she loved her -words that he had once, for a brief moment, hoped her to direct to himself- followed by the high cry of a woman aroused gasped in Violet’s voice, all of his logic had fled. Swallowed up by wounded chauvinistic pride and an entirely misplaced sense of jealousy.

Again, he knew he was being unfair and petty. Neither Violet nor Clementine had done anything wrong except find one another in a world full of despair and horror and fallen in love. And that's what they had. Love. Not a stupid one-sided childish crush, or a substitute Mari for him to protect, but a real connection between them, a partnership. He had seen it in the way they behaved around each other, around AJ, and the way that they had interacted that morning. They were a parental unit, a family, the three of them. Even with the distance he had kept between them and himself, he had seen the drift of concern cloud in Clementine’s eyes in response to Violet’s careful guard of herself at the breakfast table as well as the light that had burst back into them when the blonde had trusted her enough to allow herself to be gently coaxed to engage with the banter a short while later.

He could have joined them too, he should have. He should have taken the time to smooth out the embarrassing misunderstanding before it became a chasm. Taken the short words and teasing and laughed it off in a circle of companionship. Instead he decided to sulk alone, nursing his pride and licking at imaginary wounds that had been made to feel more real by Conrad’s carefully chosen and convincing words.

Gabe had been so lost in his musings that he hadn't noticed Violet had stopped moving, not until he bumped up against her prone form still hunkered low against the brush line. Her breath huffed over her lips as she stumbled forwards onto her knees and palms, her green eyes flaring dangerously and her head whipping around as Gabe shuffled backwards, awkwardly mumbling a soft and reluctant apology under his breath. After a long moment Violet simply rolls her eyes, sighed and shook her head before nodding her chin and directing Gabe’s gaze to a figure that squatted in the crux of two fallen tree limbs. Ragged clothing hung limply from sagging skin, shadows blanketed his crumpled form, the head bowing forward over bent knees. 

Another one? 

This walker certainly looked fresher than the last. And fresh walkers were usually always more dangerous. Their musculature less withered and the bones still firm make grasping, brutish hands much stronger and harder to dodge and escape. Instinctively, Gabe reached for the blade strapped to his thigh, its wicked edge whispering soft promises of an efficient and clean kill as he slowly drew it free of its sheath. At least that was until he felt Violet’s long fingers wrap firmly around the wrist of his armed hand to hinder his draw and halt his movements.

“Wait, Gabe.” Though she speaks quietly, the rasp in her voice comes across even more strained and jaded than usual. Her eyes shift down and away from the dark glower that the high strung youth swings her way, ignoring the frustrated twist to his lips. Carefully she moves to the side of him, her eyes fixed firmly on a small rock that was nestled beside his foot for a moment before grasping it and testing its heft in her fingers. Her touch glides easily over the smooth edges and she gives a tiny satisfied nod. Turning back to Gabe, Violet holds up her prize for him to see. “Not all walkers need to be killed. When you’re out here on your own, stealth is safer than engaging and risk drawing a herd on you. A walker will follow sound if it can’t see or smell you, so keep yourself hidden and find a rock or a stick to throw. That’ll keep them off your ass a while.”

She shifts her weight until she is squatting more so than hunched over, the rock tumbling idly through her fingers as she readjusts her grip. She’s careful to keep her eyes lowered as she continues. “Not only that, we have a controlled herd working like a moving wall that patrols our boundary lines. These walkers are all marked with mangled left hands. If you ever see one of those approaching, redirect them. We don’t kill them if we can avoid it.” Violet glances up and nods back toward the crouching figure beyond the clearing. “That guy there, he guides those walkers for us.”

Gabe blinks hard at the blonde, disbelief creasing his brow. After a moment he reluctantly settles back onto his haunches, folding his arms up over his chest and glares expectantly and unconvinced as Violet pulls her arm back and lines up her shot. Her aim sends the rock clattering through the bushes, bouncing off bark and tumbling noisily away. In the next moment there is a ripple of movement, either the squatting form itself or the shadows that enveloped it shift and recede as it -he- lifts his head, tilting it curiously in the direction that the projectile had landed. Slowly he turned back, dark eyes glittering with living intelligence beneath the sagging, leathery hide as they scan the tree line and still exactly where Gabe and Violet had carefully concealed themselves. To Gabe’s horror, Violet slowly pushes herself to her feet, breaking from cover, her hands settling on her narrow hips and her own eyes regardful in their returned observation. Her eyes dart warily, watching the other figures body language carefully before finally deeming it safe to move closer.

“Hey, James.” Her own body language is far from relaxed but it was definitely less tense than Gabe has seen on her since they had been partnered. And her tone, while still stiff and far from warm, is less biting. “I need a favor.”

James tilts his head, flashing to Gabe a glimpse of smooth and youthful skin peeking through the sallow jaundiced hide. Dark eyes glitter curiously from ragged orbital holes, fathomless and hardened, like chips of black ice. Both piercing and gentle at once as they slide away from Violet’s face and shift over to fixate upon Gabe’s own. Here the strange eyes seem to chill and darken further, his suspicion regarding the new figure at the side of one who is familiar to him clear in the stoic gaze. And for Gabe, the feeling of being scrutinized, of being inspected by a silent phantom concealed in the terrifying image of the death that plagues this world, stir the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck and sent his intestines twisting around each other in a whirlwind of anxious energy. The former Richmond survivor can feel his fingers instinctively curl into fists, nails biting into the calloused meat of his palms as he silently bristled and seethed behind his stony expression and rigid stance.

“New face.” The voice is soft and breathy, like chilled water rolling over heated flesh, soothing but not necessarily in a wholly comfortable way and Gabe finds his teeth gritting behind his lips, bracing himself against a shudder of discomfort. 

From the edges of his sight Gabe notices the twist of Violet’s head, her gaze following James’ own until he knows both are watching him. Both taking in the tension of his posture and reading the wordless threat in the way that he holds his shoulders tense and the way his eyes zero in on the former Whisperer, his pupils constricting and jaw working, his nostrils flaring with every breath he took. 

“Temporary face.” She states flatly and Gabe scowls at her from behind shuttered eyes. “Old companions of Clem’s. She says they’re good people…” A flash of some unbidden expression flits across her face, disappearing as swiftly as it has shown itself as she reluctantly adds. “Mostly.”

“I see.”

James’ hands move to the back of his head, fingers carefully threading through his shaggy hair and loosening the thick stitching that laced the skin in place. Gabe felt his stomach clench hard at the sudden wave of sour nausea scorching into his gullet. The bitter tang of acid fills his nose as he finally saw the mask for what it was, the peeled face of a walker. He whirls his focus to his companion, his anxieties screaming in his ears, expecting the blonde to explain but she doesn’t. Instead Violet converses with him, sharing information of their plans with a guy who was clearly unstable enough to dress himself in rotting walker skins as though they were old friends exchanging simple pleasantries.

“Louis is gonna lead a small scouting group out tomorrow. Take a few of the temps out beyond our western borders to look for a safe place to set up for themselves. Clemen... uh, _I_ was hoping you could take your evening and morning patrol out a little further, y’know? Sweep the area for any assholes that might have managed to get too close without our notice.” 

James remains silent and still, his lashes sliding down to half mast as he contemplates the request for a moment. “Kind of you, to offer others assistance. Considering the outcome of your last encounter with people from Clementine’s past.” Though his voice is soft and deceptively gentle, there is an ammosity to James’ words that Gabe found jarring. A strange misplaced bitterness against the blonde that wasn’t there before, but one that seemed so ingrained into his tone when Clementine’s name is mentioned that he just doesn’t seem quite able to soften it. “I trust the civility behind this arrangement is your doing.”

“Can we not do this shit? Just one time.” There’s a sharp but tired edge that seeps into Violet’s voice as she raises a hand and presses her thumb and forefinger to the corners of her eyes. A dull exhaustion bleeding into her every word, like it’s the same argument she’s been over too many times before. “It’s not like you’re a fucking saint yourself, James. None of us are without our faults so drop the attitude, yeah?”

James recoils slightly at the reprimand, her words extinguishing a little of the heat from his temper and dampening the fire in his eyes as he backs down, huffing a frustrated breath through his nose as he does so. “Very well. I will move the herd as you ask.”

“Thank you.” There’s a twitch in Violet’s cheek, a shadowed shift in tense muscles that tell of the obvious effort it costs her to keep her voice neutral as she continues. “I'm taking a salvage team out in a few days. A big supply run with the Birchwall team. Out where the old country houses are. I can’t promise much, but it’ll be our last run before winter hits.” 

“Whatever you feel you can spare will always be appreciated.”

The blonde nods before tilting her gaze up toward the sky, squinting. Gabe finds himself mirroring the movement, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the blazing reach of sun that just barely dips beneath the treeline, throwing out late afternoon rays that fade rather than strengthen through the rasping leaves and swaying branches. “You got your winter camp sorted? It’s gonna start getting fucking cold soon.”

“The cave. Not far out of the area. It has served me well past winters.” 

“I know the one. I’ll start dropping your rations closer to there then. Rations will be a little tighter, we’re stretched pretty thin right now.” Violet clears her throat awkwardly and shifts her gaze again. In her eyes is a twisted agony that swirls through the depths of soft green. “There’s… there’s something else.”

James’ gaze slides back up and over to her slowly, alert and watching her curiously, his face a picture of utter nonchalance merely waiting for her to continue speaking.

“There’s walker back there, strung up by its guts.” She's angry. Fuming. It's an anger that she directs mostly at herself, at the hollowed guilt that never seems to leave her. Behind her ribs, a strange conflict of emotion simmers, both cooling and heating her blood and a tiny internal voice in the back of her mind that whispers dark challenges for him to lie to her. “I saw the hand, I know it’s one of yours.”

“Yes.” He doesn’t lie to her. Doesn’t even try to hide his actions nor mask his stoic expression as realization of what the blonde is insinuating flares in his dark eyes.

Gabe’s eyes dart over to his companion in time to see the mask of pretense crumbling down and her raw emotions take over. Violet’s lips part in a gasp as though James had landed a sucker punch to her gut rather than giving a simple admission. There's a nauseated sensation swirling unrestrained in Violet's belly, spreading chilled fingers winding up through her blood, constricting her lungs and squeezing her throat. Her head swims with half-formed thoughts and a painful thumping in her ears. It feels as if her blood had thickened to freezing tar in her veins as her heart, audibly pumping and stuttering, struggles to keep a steady beat as James continues speaking.

“She just appeared and joined the patrol one day. Down by the old bridge.” He pauses and leans his head back against the twisted bark of the gnarled bed of roots, relaxing against the structure as though he is simply recalling a fond dream. “But she was so damaged. Wasn’t able to keep up with the herd. I would find her just wandering. Alone. Lost. So I brought her here. Kept her close.”

“You know you can't do this kinda shit. Not anymore.” 

James rolls his chin down, his eyes narrowing in confusion at the strange strangled tone in her voice. He studies the odd way that Violet’s facial expression contorts her features, more a convulsion of betrayal rather than anger. “Fuck, James. You can’t just decide to change our agreement because you found yourself a pet. This is how shit gets fucked up and people get killed.” 

“She’s not a threat.” His words are murmured more than spoken. Thick lashes shuttering as he shifts his focus away from the blonde and studies the damp earth instead. “She can barely move.”

“Then you put the thing out of its misery!” 

When James snaps his head up and meets Violet’s eyes he can read the pain in them, how the clarity of the green is suffocating. Brush strokes of betrayal marbling through a storm of hollow disappointment and darkness. A tempest of ghosts resurfaced. Ghosts that she had thought long put to rest. He can see indecisiveness in the way that her hands curl and flex, simply for want of something to do with them before one rises to her hair, fingers raking through the pale strands. “You agreed you were gonna keep your herd restricted to the borders, so we could clear out the rest of the walkers from the forest and make it safe. You know that when your walkers start breaking down or wandering away from the herd, they need to be culled, not hidden in our secured areas where any poor fuck can stumble on them. We can't have rogue dead ripping into us in our own backyard because you feel fucking sorry for them!”

James’ lips twist in frustration and his darkened gaze slides away. He works his stiffened jaw, chewing at the inside of his cheek as his shoulders slowly creep upwards, tensing against the barrage of hurtful words and shielding him from her scarcely controlled anger that scorch his nerve endings and singes his skin. He feels that familiar frustrating tightness take him by his throat, the same one that he had felt when Violet had first approached him with the idea of the walker patrol.

“This was what you wanted.” Violet’s voice comes softer, devoid of any heat or emotion now that her highly charged tirade ebbs into exhaustion. “For us to work together. And we are trying, James. We are. Why else do you think I’d ask you about that walker instead of just killing it? We depend on you. And, like it or not, you depend on us. That’s how it works now. To keep us all alive.” 

Her words ripple in James’ mind, leaving it to move in strangely familiar yet foreign ways. Ways that he had become separated from and grown unaccustomed to for the half of his lifetime that he has spent living in solitude in this twisted up version of the world. They are merely an echo, a fragile impression of his vision that he had shared with her for the world that he wishes to see. A better one, built upon the ashes and bones of the old, Though he is seeing it from her perspective, different but still so fundamentally similar, enough so that it still had the power to tear down the walls that he had built around himself so high and deep.

“I’ll take her. Lead her out away from your borde-”

“No!”

The sharp bark of denial brought James and Violet’s debate to an abrupt end and their heads around. Gabe was upright, his spine rigid and arms folded over his chest. He wets his lips and ignores the way that James stiffens and frowns at him, his eyes darting to the side where Violet seems to have uncomfortably shriveled in on herself. “You made an arrangement. You broke it. You don’t get to move that muerto somewhere else to hide.” Perhaps he was being a little bit forward, maybe even a little intrusive, but it was clear to him by the way that fight had left his companion that his own abrasive mannerisms were what this conversation needed. Leveling the older male with a firm scowl, Gabe continues, his words firm in their finality. “I’ll kill it.”

James frowns harder, his dark eyes narrowing and a challenge in his words. “You are like Clementine. You see them as monsters. Things to kill.”

“I see them as threats. Clementine taught me that if they have to be killed, then kill them.” Gabe spits back, bristling at the accusation. “But Violet is teaching me that if they can be avoided, then avoid them.”

A corner of Jame’s mouth twitches into a strange expression. Not quite a smile but not quite a sneer but something that straddles between. “Diplomatic.” His eyes slip over to catch Violet’s own hooded gaze as she let her eyes flick briefly back to Gabe’s face. “You are showing him a better way.”

Violet studies Gabe curiously, lips pursing together for a moment, like she was unsure of his motivation before she chooses her words carefully. “I’m showing him there are choices.” Her eyes dart to James next, hoping that neither of the young men watching her could sense the doubt that she can feel squeezing her throat, constricting around her voice. “But he’s right. That walker needs to go…” The tension in her posture is back, seeping into her muscles and hunching herself even smaller before she takes a steadying breath and squeezes her eyes shut. “I’ll do it.”

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

It was beginning to get dark now. The sunlight had been dwindling for hours and the drawing dusk had begun to tease its shadowed fingers through the waning gold light of the afternoon, coaxing in the first shades of the evening to creep in around them. Gabe continues to simply follow Violet through the winding forest trail. They move on in slow silence, his eyes flitting and scanning around them as he begins to vaguely recognized their path, not as the one to lead them back to the school, but as the one that had carried them deeper into the forest. He frowns, confusion tugging his brows low as he watches Violet carefully. He knows where they’re headed and why, but there's something different in the way that she was moving. Her footfalls have lost their smooth almost sauntering gait from earlier, each one now falling in a strange chaotic pattern, rhythmless and clumsily spaced. Almost as though they were struggling to obey her brain and place each consecutive step without stumbling.

Ever since they'd parted ways with James, the masked youth shuffling and shambling into the bushes, the dense brambles and thickets swallowing his form until he was nothing more than a memory, she had fallen silent, brooding. Her face wiped clean of any and all expression, as though she'd pulled down a screen to hide her emotions. Her eyes plastered downwards, staring at the scuffs and blemishes that marked her too big boots, scrutinizing the broken purple laces with disdain. The only indication that she was at all mentally present in her movements was the tight twist of determination that pressed her lips together and the frantic fire that caught in her eyes every time that they darted from one focal point to the next. What they had to do, it drove her on. Forcing her to continue placing one foot in front of the other with her arms wrapped tightly around her chest while the wind pressed her clothing tightly against her form and tossed her ash blonde hair around aimlessly.

And so they walk onwards. Her eyes moved with the alertness that comes from heavy stress and her hands remained clenched by subconscious demand. She circled her shoulders and twisted her head from side to side, wincing as something popped at the base of her skull. Took a long, deep breath, held it for five flutters of her heart before letting it out in a slow controlled exhale, hoping it to loosen her body movements and slacken her stride into a more casual pace. With each step that carries them nearer, the thoughts that warred in Violet's mind became a little more clear, a little more resolute and convicted. A few minutes more and the gentle breath of the wind, tenderly shushing the anxious rolling in her guts, faded. Rising instead to a strange rasp, growing more chilling and louder with every new tread, morphing into a familiar voice, one that belonged exclusively to the dead.

Violet paused abruptly and without warning. Drawing herself up and tilted her chin toward the sky, her lashes sliding shut as she took in a deep breath of the young evening air, steeling herself for what she needed to do next. Silently she shifted herself from the security of the brush, leaving Gabe hidden and squatting in the shadows, his fingers twitching around the hilt of his sheathed blade and eyes scanning their rear for any other surprises shielded by the treeline. 

Now when she moved, she purposefully dropped her feet heavily against the brittle leaf litter, letting the broken, nightmarish creature hear exactly where she was. Encouraging the sunken and sightless eyes to swing around and zero in on her position. The walker's jaw immediately dropped wide, a hungry hissing gurgle rolling from her torn throat as broken limbs rose and clawed blindly toward the approaching blonde. Eyes that had once glittered ocean blue were now milky white as they stare out at her with a mindless menace. And all Violet could do was simply stand there and watch the decrepit husk as it tries and fails to reach her, her heart twisting with a mix of sadness and horror at this miserable portrayal of what could become of them all.

Walkers weren't horrific because they were decaying or terrifying because they were driven to mindlessly devour. They were terrifying because, despite it all, they still looked more human than monster. Horrifying because they still wore the faces of loved ones as they chewed you up, just these faces were twisted up into the very worst versions of that person. Eyes would still lock to eyes upon meeting, only those still living instinctively searched the ones that were dead for a spark of recognition. But it was never there. Just the crushing realization that there was no real life held behind those rolling sightless orbs, not any more.

Gabe watches Violet as she watches the walker struggle against its internal bindings to snatch at her a few moments more, her breathing silent and steady despite the way her heart jack-knifed within her breast. After one particularly juddering attempt the walker made to lurch to its feet, one that had the young tree anchoring it down creaking and folding worryingly, she comes back to herself. The lurch had Gabe pivoting around and reaching for his knife once more in a single fluid motion. His thighs tensing, ready to dart out and run to the blonde’s assistance should he need to. “Just do it, Violet!” He hisses under his breath.

Violet shakes her head once, twice. Blinking owlishly against a burning sensation building in the corners of her eyes as she takes hold of her bow... 

Steadies her breath that feels tacky like blood in her throat as she slips an arrow from her quiver...

Fits the shaft to her string and aims, finally allowing herself to see _her_ and not it...

"I'm so sorry, Minnie."

... and shoots.

 


End file.
